Sweat Equity
by fnur
Summary: First, he found his dream home. Then, he met his dream girl. Both are going to require a lot of sweat and hard work.
1. Chapter 1

_This is the first modern day AU I've done since 'Range of Motion', the first multi-chapter I've done in a year or so, and the first fic I've done in many, many months. I hope you enjoy! Find me on tumblr at fnurfnur. I don't own any right to The Hunger Games or its characters, but I do own my own tool belt and machete._

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They had been at it all day, all week, and Peeta didn't know if he had the stamina for one more time. But as always, the promise of more made him rise to the occasion.

"Peeta, I promise that you'll really just adore the next house. It's exactly what you've been looking for," Effie chirped as she typed away on her smartphone, long pink nails clicking against the screen. She had a knack for promising the world while never making eye contact. He wondered if all realtors did that.

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends and letting the slight tug of pain in his scalp keep his temper in check. "Look, Effie, I'm going to say this one last time. I only want to see it if it's older than sixty years and hasn't been renovated. I told you that I want a fixer upper, and you keep showing me houses that were built twenty years ago and move-in ready."

"Not move-in ready - the last one definitely needed a coat of paint on the shutters!" She protested. "And the draperies on that condo? Positively horrifying!"

"You know that's not what I mean, Effie. I want something old, with hidden beauty that I can bring out. I don't want a pretty house, I want a place I can make my own home," he explained patiently, as if he had not told her this numerous times before.

She huffed in disbelief and finally dropped her phone into her purse. "But I don't understand why you'd want to put in so much time and money and.. and.. _sweat_! Wouldn't it be better to spend your time enjoying your new home instead of building it?"

"It's not building, it's restoring and renovating. And that _is_ how I'd be enjoying my home. I want a home I can bring to life and make my own. I want one that I can personalize and one day raise a family in."

"But this next one has a pool and hot tub already built in!"

"Pass."

She groaned and pulled out her tablet, searching for another property to show him before she lost his interest - and business - entirely.

"Here," she said, an annoyed edge creeping into her usually chipper voice. "This will appeal to you. It's practically falling down! In fact, the cost is only $5,000 but they'd probably give it away for a dollar just to be rid of it!" She tipped her tablet towards Peeta to show her pictures. She probably intended for him to see the sagging front porch and cracked, peeling siding as a negative. Or perhaps the overgrown brush and weeds rampant on the five acres of land surrounding the house was enough of a deterrent. But he was already falling in love. Reading about the faulty wiring, sagging foundation and rotting clapboards did nothing to tarnish it in his eyes.

Seeing the property in person sealed the deal. Peeta appreciated being able to explore it on his own, since Effie refused to sully her outfit by stepping inside. He could imagine putting his favorite books on the built-in shelves surrounding the fireplace, once the woodwork was stripped and restored. He could see himself in the kitchen - as soon as the cracked, too-small cabinets and rotten floors were removed and the back wall was pushed out a few feet - baking one of his father's favorite bread recipes. He smiled at the thought of spending a summer afternoon on the front porch - once it wasn't caving in anymore - on a porch swing he built himself, preferably sitting next to a beautiful woman.

First things first, though. He had to buy the house before he could think about spending time with anyone in it.

An hour later, Peeta had made a formal offer on the house for the asking price of $5000, in cash. Panem Bank, the house's current owner, told him that the price was really for the five acres of land the house sat on, and not the building itself. "We just figured anyone who bought it would tear the house down. Aren't you gonna do that?" asked the bank officer, Mr. Thread. The old man didn't seem to care for Peeta's plans for restoring and renovating the house, but he couldn't say no to a full cash offer and a chance to get an old property off their balance sheet.

A week later, Peeta walked out of his attorney's office with a signed deed, a thick stack of copied paperwork and a cramped hand from signing his name more times than he could count. This was Peeta's first house - his first big purchase of anything other than a full-sized truck. He laughed to himself when he realized that the truck cost more than the house.

Ever since his father taught him how to swing a hammer at the age of five, Peeta had dreamed of finding an old house to renovate and restore until he could truly call it his own. His father had always indulged his youngest son, and named him his "apprentice" for all household projects. Peeta tagged along happily, a junior-sized tool belt slung low around his overalls, and learned everything he could. There was always something to fix or spruce up in their old house on Merchant Lane, a fact mentioned repeatedly by his mother, who was always very vocal about her desire to move into a new house. Eventually when Peeta's two older brothers moved out and on to college and the rest of their lives, Peeta and his parents moved to a smaller but brand-new townhouse in a newly-constructed development.

Peeta hated their new home. It smelled of new carpet and had no soul. He missed their old house, and the markings on the worn doorframes his father had made to mark the boys' height, and the smell of wood wax and a well-used fireplace. That was home to him, not the sterile beige box they had moved to. Peeta made himself a promise that once he was able to, he would buy an old home with history and character, and make it his own.

He saved as much money as he could since he was fifteen years old. He didn't know about things like mortgages and equity back then - he just put away every spare penny until he had just over six figures as a nest egg. He made a good living as a freelance illustrator, especially since his last several designs were sold to a clothing manufacturer and currently adorned the front of several T-shirts that he would see on disenchanted hipsters in his favorite coffee shop from time to time. Once his income was as steady as a freelancer could hope for and he was sick of renting an apartment, he decided that it was time to make his dream come true.

Once he bought the dilapidated 1926 Craftsman bungalow at the end of Victors Village Drive and moved the rest of his sizeable nest egg in a fund for renovations, he put the majority of his belongings in storage, and moved in. On his first night in the house, he sat in the large foyer with a beer in his hand and the key in the other. The house was illuminated only by a few work lamps powered by a generator he had bought that afternoon, and dust floated through the air in every direction. But to him, he had never seen anything more beautiful. To him, this was home.

Peeta was scrolling through a restaurant app on his phone to figure out what the evening's takeout dinner would be when there was a knock on his front door and two voices on the other side.

"The doorbell doesn't work!" said the first voice.

"Of course the doorbell doesn't work - the electricity doesn't even work!" barked the second, older voice.

"Can you believe this dump?"

"This dump is my house, thanks very much," Peeta said as he opened the door. "Welcome - you're my first visitors."

His uncle Haymitch pushed past him inside, carrying a large pizza box. "We'll be the last visitors, too, if you don't fix this place up soon."

His best friend Finnick raised the twelve-pack of beer he carried and walked inside. "I hope you know what you're doing with this place, man."

"Hello to you, too. Trust me - I've spent my entire life getting ready for this project. Why do you think I spent every summer apprenticing on house crews during high school and college?"

Finnick sat on the first step and opened a beer with his keys before handing it to Haymitch. "I don't know - to meet chicks?"

"No," said Haymitch. "That's why _you_ became a lifeguard every summer."

Finnick laughed and opened two more beers. "Right, right. I knew one of us had their priorities straight."

"All right, boy," Haymitch said as he sat on the floor and opened the pizza box. "Tell us your plans for this dump."

Peeta walked them through his plans for the house, pointing out the architectural details, original windows and doors and other historical elements that he wanted to preserve. He pointed out the original windows and dormers, the woodworking features evident in every room. His favorite part - if he had to choose amongst everything he loved about the old house - was probably the French doors that opened up to the backyard. He envisioned one day opening them up to watch his kids play in the backyard.

"That's not a backyard, it's a jungle," Haymitch said as they looked over the overgrown property.

"It just needs to be cleaned up and restored, like the rest of the house," Peeta said.

"Please tell me you're going to hire a professional for that, man," Finnick said.

"Why would I?" he asked.

Haymitch snorted. "Because you have a distinct talent for getting yourself injured outdoors. Or am I the only one who remembers the time you tripped and almost got your leg run over by a lawn mower?"

"Or when he decided to pull out weeds but they were all poison ivy, and he had welts on his hands and arms and knees for weeks?" Finnick asked.

"Or the time he decided to trim the magnolia tree in my yard, and the branch he cut fell on his head and gave him a concussion?" Haymitch laughed.

"Or that time he was pulling out an old bush and injured his back right before his big wrestling match?"

"Or when he tried to use the hedge trimmer and lost control and nicked up the side of my brother's garage?"

"Okay, I get it!," Peeta yelled, sending them both into a fit of laughter. "Fine, I'll see about hiring a landscaping company or something. Happy now?"

"Very," Haymitch said. "Because I don't want you to die pulling out all those vines I see out there. You'd probably leave this dump to me in your will and make me deal with it."

"I absolutely would, and if you tore it down, I'd come back and haunt you both," Peeta said.

His guests stayed for another couple of hours, until the pizza and beer were both gone and the sky was completely dark. Finnick and Haymitch had continued to tease Peeta, but he secretly appreciated it. They were good friends to him, and felt more like family than his mother ever had. Finnick has been his best friend since swimming lessons when they were six years old, and Uncle Haymitch looked after him like he was his own son, especially after his brother, Peeta's father, passed away three years ago.

Eventually, Finnick gathered up Haymitch and walked the old man to his car. Haymitch loved booze a bit more than he liked to drive, so Peeta and Finnick often took turns driving him wherever he needed. Finnick would be hesitant to admit it, but Haymitch was like a father to him as well, and both young men were quick to look after him.

Peeta saw them out and stopped by the rusted old mailbox - his very own mailbox - to brush it off with his hand. It wouldn't be long before he could cover it with a fresh coat of glossy paint, and maybe even handpaint "Mellark" on the front. Of course, he'd have to get the damned thing open first.

Peeta yanked and pulled at the rusted mailbox door until it ripped off the hinges and disintegrated in his hand. He could hear Haymitch howling in laughter from the car, but he didn't care once he saw an envelope in the mailbox. His first piece of mail in his first home had arrived, and he was downright giddy.

Ripping open the folded piece of green paper, he read the following on the flyer:

_Everthorne Landscaping - specializing in yard and irrigation design, landscape planning and yard clean-up. Free estimates and special pricing for first-time customers!_

Peeta looked at the overgrown land around his house. Thick vines covered much of the east and back side of the house, and they extended up into several scrubby bushes and trees. He had no idea which of the plants were viable, and which were weeds, and he had no idea if any of the overgrown grass could be mowed or if it had to be hacked out with some sort of machete. The truth was, as much as he loved working on houses, he hated working on yards. He had never been one to enjoy mowing the lawn or working outside unless it was on a roof. As much as a part of him wanted to personally fix every inch of his property, he had to accept his limits.

He would call Everthorne Landscaping tomorrow. Just as soon as he replaced the mailbox.

Peeta wasted no time the next morning in getting started. He was up before sunrise, a combination of being used to baker's hours ever since his childhood, and the fact that he had spent an uncomfortable night in a sleeping bag in the foyer. Maybe he should bring his mattress out of storage after all. He figured the renovation would take four to five months, and that was a long time to spend in a sleeping bag.

After ordering the dumpster delivery for demolition materials and getting his remaining tools and mattress out of storage, he placed a quick call to the number on the green flyer and spoke to a very nice woman named Madge. She asked if he was available to get an estimate today, and he agreed.

"Wonderful, Mr. Mellark! Katniss will meet you at your home between 11:00 am and noon," Madge chirped. He thanked her and hung up, thinking about what kind of parents would name their kid "Katniss" until he thought about what kind of parents would name their kid "Peeta."

A few hours later, a (somewhat) shiny twenty-foot dumpster was delivered to Peeta's driveway. He was so excited about the delivery of the large brown metallic container that would soon be filled with rotted boards and dilapidated materials that he failed to notice the arrival of a large green truck that pulled in behind the dumpster. It wasn't until he heard the slam of a heavy truck door that he turned around and saw her.

She was dressed in a dark green T-shirt with the Everthorne company logo, and a pair of well worn cargo pants that fit a little too loosely. Her boots were scuffed with dirt and ash from fertilizers, and her hair was pulled back into a simple braid along the side of her head. She didn't seem to realize that there was a leaf stuck in it, or that there was a smudge of dirt along the bottom of her jaw. My God, how he wanted to be the one to brush it away.

He had seen more beautiful women, and ones who exuded sex or glamour or the other attributes some pretty girls possess. But he was struck by her down to his very core, and he had never been more excited by anyone in his life. And all this before either of them had uttered a word.

"Mr. Mellark?" she asked. "I'm Katniss, from Everthorne Landscaping." She reached out her hand in greeting, and it took three excruciatingly long seconds for enough sense to hit him before he grabbed her hand in return.

"Please, call me Peeta. Um, Katniss. Hi."

"I understand you wanted an estimate on clearing your yard?" she asked. He was caught up in her mercurial eyes while nodding dumbly. "Okay, well. Can you tell me about what you're looking for?"

_Think, Mellark. Think and speak. _

"Um, yes. Uh, it's... see, well. Okay, so, it's my yard. I just bought this house and the yard... well, of course I bought the yard too. I mean, it came with it. Um. Anyway, it's out of control, and I'm no good at landscaping. I mean, I'm good at other things! Like, this house. I'm going to fix it. Not the yard though. I uh, I need help. From you. Obviously."

Peeta usually had an easy way with women - with anyone, really. His father used to say he was blessed with the gift of gab. He had never met anyone he couldn't fall into an easy conversation with, or move with the power of his words. Until today.

Katniss nodded and looked at him in a mix of confusion and perhaps a bit of apprehension, as if he was a volcano that might start erupting words any moment. "Well, I figured you didn't want our help with the house. Are you looking for us to just clear out the yard, or do landscaping services as well?"

Peeta rubbed the back of his neck, trying to calm his nerves. He had never been so tongue-tied - of course he would lose his ability to speak coherently in front of this woman. This mysterious, enigmatic, desirable woman who was looking at him as if he had grown a second head.

"Um. I'm not sure? I guess I dont even know anything about what's under all of the weeds," he admitted.

Katniss looked past him and surveyed the yard. "Well, let me take a look and we'll see what you've got." This was her cue to politely excuse herself and walk past Peeta, and all he could do was turn and watch the swing in her walk - the swing of her braid on her back, her clipboard in her hand, her hips in those pants. His feet started moving before his brain did - he had to follow those hips.

She looked over her shoulder and noticed his approach before giving him a nervous smile. "This is, uh, quite a piece of property you've got here, Mr. Mellark."

"Peeta!" he said with a bit too much enthusiasm. "I mean, um. Really, please call me Peeta. And uh, thank you. I guess." His hand returned to the back of his neck, his old nervous habit rearing its ugly head more in the past five minutes than it had in the entire year before he met Katniss. "I figured maybe it had a lot of hidden potential, like the house?"

She looked behind them at the house. "Yeah, that house does have a lot going for it. It just needs some love. Those French doors are beautiful. They look like the original Craftsman style."

He thought he might pass out from her words. The first person who didn't think his house was a dump was also _her_, Katniss, this woman that he didn't know but thought he might die if he ever lost her.

"Did you want to keep the fence, Mr. Mell - um. Sorry, I mean, Peeta?" Katniss asked.

That shook him out of his daze. "I have a _fence_?"

She pulled a pair of work gloves from her back pocket and slid them on before walking up to what he had thought was just some vine-covered bushes. "Look here - it's covered by the kudzu and scrub, but you have a fence here. We won't know what kind of shape it's in until we clear everything, but I can make it out along the full perimeter of the back yard. We can either try to restore it, tear it down and leave it open, or tear it down and put a new one up."

"I guess let's try to restore it, if it's possible," Peeta said. She nodded and scribbled some notes on her clipboard before walking further into the backyard and looking at the state of the trees that lined the left edge of the property.

"These trees look to be in good shape - they just need trimming. It looks like they've been able to avoid Dutch Elm Disease. That's good, a lot of trees in this area had to be cut down from that," Katniss said.

"What's that? Dutch Elm Disease, I mean?" Peeta asked.

"It's a very destructive disease that attacks pretty much any species of elm. It's passed on by the elm bark beetle. The disease is actually pretty brilliant, it makes the tree attack itself so that water and nutrients can't travel up the tree from the roots."

He loved watching her talk. He loved it so much, he didn't realize when she stopped that it was his turn to talk. He just kept nodding and smiling, a dazed look in his eye.

"Okay, I'm... I'm going to keep going,' she said once his silence became uncomfortable. She turned her back to him and began sifting through the long grasses in the back yard. "So how old is this property?" she yelled over her shoulder. His hand returned to his neck.

"The house was built in 1926. I'm not sure if the plot is the original property lines, though. I guess I could find out, I mean if you need to know," he stammered.

"No, that's okay. Just curious." She gave him a nervous smile and continued wading through the grass. He shook his head and rushed to catch up to her, his heavy-footed stride getting tangled in the weeds. She held her hand up to him to stop him from moving any further.

"Careful! You almost walked into a rose bush," she said, pointing out what looked like just a brown, dead bush to him.

"I have roses?" he asked.

"Had. You had roses. This one is completely dead, but the thorns will still hurt if you walk into them. Here," she said as she leaned down and ripped the bush out with one quick jerk of her gloved hand. "I'll put this in the dumpster. Um, this one is on the house," she joked, before her face flushed. She turned back to the yard.

He laughed, and his hand slowly left his neck to brush through his hair. "Thanks. You saved me from... thorns. You know, you'd think a landscaping company wouldn't want a name like 'Everthorne'... maybe 'Neverthorne' is more appropriate." Thankfully Katniss still had her back to him so she couldn't see him smack his own forehead in disbelief. But even in the haze of his own embarrassment, he still saw her shoulders tighten in response.

"Actually, thorns are incredibly helpful to plants. There are kinds that help to shade and insulate their plants. But mostly, they keep the plants safe from... unwanted attention," she said, not looking at him.

Peeta wished he had thought to rent a backhoe, so he could dig a big hole in the yard and bury himself in it. She hated him, he thought. She must.

"Besides," she said, "it's a combination of names. My last name, and my partner's."

"Oh, your partner?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from cracking like a nervous thirteen-year-old boy.

"Yes, my partner Gale. We're co-owners of the business," she said. Finally she turned around and faced him. "I'm all done checking out the property. Give me a bit to make some calculations write up a proposal, and I'll have an estimate for you in about thirty minutes."

"You got it! Take all the time you need. Can I get you anything to drink?" he said, stumbling over himself to make her smile again and get his foot out of his mouth.

"No thank you, I'll just be in my truck," she said, and walked back towards the dumpster. Even in heavy brush and grass and vines and weeds and _thorns_, he couldn't help but notice that her footsteps were silent. _How does she do that?_ he wondered. Peeta was always a loud walker - he wouldn't have been able to sneak up on someone if his life depended on it.

By this point, he wouldn't have blamed her if the estimate was just a piece of paper that said "NO WAY" on it. He decided to distract himself from his mortifying encounter with demolition work while Katniss worked. He needed a way to get out of his head, and hitting something repeatedly with a sledgehammer seemed like the perfect remedy.

He had already marked all of the materials that were to be removed with a quick mark from some bright orange spray paint, so now it was just a matter of deciding where to start first. The kitchen seemed like a good place to begin - after all, those cabinets really needed to come out.

Thirty minutes later, the cabinets, countertops, sink and interior wall were nothing but a pile of rubble on the floor. Demo felt good to Peeta. Swinging a sledgehammer and taking his aggression out on something hard that would end up in a dumpster was incredibly satisfying, and a great way to work up a sweat. Peeta had begun gathering the debris in the trash container when he heard a knock from the hallway.

"Sorry... sorry, I rang the doorbell..." Katniss said, looking flushed and embarrassed from her spot in the hallway. She had slipped in while Peeta finished his destruction in the kitchen, and even watched for a minute.

"Yeah, the doorbell doesn't work. Sorry about that. Come on in, just watch and make sure you don't step on any broken... you know what, I'll come out there," Peeta said. He had not forgotten his earlier embarrassment, but the high from demolition had given him a boost of confidence and adrenaline. If Katniss would have his business, he had decided, he would hire her company. Maybe he'd get another chance to make a good impression on her. Maybe he'd get to know her. Maybe he could ask her out on a date sometime, and she wouldn't throw him into a thorned bush in response.

"I decided to give two estimates - one for just cleaning up the yard, and another for ongoing maintenance. The ongoing maintenance estimate will be the same even if we do landscape design after we clean up the yard and put in new plants and features after. If we put in water features though, the price will change for maintenance. But we can deal with that when we come to it. "

Peeta nodded and smiled at her, hoping that the unease between them had faded. After all, he was definitely going to hire her company. There was really no need to even see the estimate. How expensive could landscaping really be?

"I'm sure the estimate is fi - HOLY LORD," he said, seeing the number on the bottom of the form. Could it really be that much? He knew it was more involved than just pulling out a few bushes, and he saw how extensive the work would be as he scanned the punch list on the estimate. His hand returned to his neck.

"Katniss, I really want to hire you guys... but I guess I wasn't expecting it to cost this much. I mean, this is almost ten percent of my entire renovation budget. I just... I don't know," he said. Her face changed from a hopeful, professional look to one of deep thought. A little wrinkle formed between her eyebrows, and he wondered what it would be like to smooth it away with his fingertips. He _wanted_ to do that. Maybe he could expand his credit line at the bank...

"Give me five minutes," she said, then quickly turned on her heel and walked out. He followed her out the door on to the sagging front porch, and reminded himself that the unsafe structure of the porch really needed to be torn down today. He watched Katniss get into her truck and get on her cell phone. She talked rapidly, and snuck looks at him every few seconds. He knew he was staring, but he could not help it. She was breathtaking, even then.

She hung up the phone and walked back towards him while scribbling something on her clipboard before removing the paper. "Mr. - um, Peeta. Sorry. Peeta, I'll tell you what. If you don't mind the work taking a bit longer, we can just use one person as much as possible, and that will knock the cost down. Plus this is a huge job, so I think we can throw in a discount that's in addition to the first-time customer discount. Also, if you let us put one of our signs in your yard while we do the work, we'll knock off a bit more. Does this figure work a bit better for you?" She handed him his original estimate that had been marked up with notes and crossed out figures. The labor figure had been cut nearly in half, and various discounts had been scribbled in the margins. The new estimate brought the cost down significantly.

He breathed a sigh of relief. It was still a formidable amount, but it didn't cause his stomach to clench like the first one had. "Yes, this is much better. Um, so just one worker? Would it be you or your partner?" _Please be Katniss, please be Katniss..._

"It would be me, if that's all right with you," Katniss said. "I assure you, I'm more than capable of handling the job. The only time we'd need more than one person is if we needed to lay irrigation or pour concrete. But that wouldn't be needed during the clean-up stage. Since it is just me though, the work will take a few weeks instead of ten to fifteen days. Would that be all right, Peeta?"

When she had assured him of her capabilities, her back had straightened and she looked him level in the eyes. She was proud of her work, he could tell. And the idea of spending a few weeks with her, even in just a business relationship, was definitely a plus.

"It would be more than all right. I mean, it would be great. Um, I mean that's just fine. I'm not going anywhere," he joked. She nodded and smiled, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. He was mesmerized by the action.

"I can start tomorrow, if that works for you?" she asked. He nodded with a bit more excitement than he really meant to. "Okay, then I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I like to start early, so I'll just head back with my equipment. I don't want to disturb you."

"No worries, I get up before dawn every day. Um, my dad was a baker. I'm used to early mornings. Besides, I'll be working on the house. Feel free to come in. I mean, if you want. You don't have to. But you can. Um, I'll have coffee and breakfast, if you like," Peeta said. He wanted to pull his hair out in frustration in his inability to sound like anything other than an idiot around her.

"That's okay, I wouldn't want to impose. I'll see you tomorrow." And like that, she turned and walked back to her truck. He hated himself for being drawn to her hips again, and how her ass looked in those pants. Too bad she seemed to want nothing to do with him, he thought.

Since he didn't know Katniss, he didn't know how different her behavior was, too. Anyone from the small group of people she called "friends" would have teased her mercilessly at her behavior. She waited until he turned and went back in the house, then took one more glance at how his ass looked in those jeans.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to everyone who left a review, followed or favorited this story, or dropped me a note on tumblr! I hope you enjoy this chapter. You can find me on tumblr as fnurfnur._

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When Peeta was growing up, he always loved to look at the tools in his father's garage. Each one seemed magical, their purpose a mystery until his father's guidance showed him they were capable of creation, improvement or destruction. They were carefully sorted by type and always put exactly in their place in the proper drawer of the tool chest or the correct shelf in the garage. His father had an instrument or machine or device for just about everything, and Peeta wanted to learn how to use every single one.

Eventually, he did. Every single tool in that garage was used, practiced with and mastered by Peeta by the time he finished high school. He could tell you his opinion on the superiority of a framing hammer versus a standard claw hammer for everyday use, wax poetic on his favorite brand of drill (it was Makita), and create a dovetail joint in minutes. When he was four, his father gave him his first tool belt, which was immediately filled with plastic tools. When he was seven, he received his first real hammer. When he was ten, his father taught him how to use the compound saw. When he was thirteen, he began earning money by doing handyman work around the neighborhood. When he was sixteen, he started working on a local construction crew as a summer job. By eighteen, he used the tools far more than his father did.

Yet for every tool his father had for fixing or building, there were very few for taking care of anything outside of the house. There was a lawn mower, like most houses. They had a hedge trimmer and a shovel, and a couple of rakes for the fall. And that was as far as their yard arsenal went. As far as he was concerned, that was all that was really needed.

So when Katniss arrived early the next morning and began to unload the gear from her truck, Peeta was astounded at all the _stuff_ she had. He had no idea there were so many implements that could be used for yardwork. Wasn't it just a bunch of plants and sticks?

Some of the items he recognized, of course. A chainsaw, some big pruning shears. Big gloves. Anyone could see those. But what was that pole with the blades at the end? Or that thing that looked like his compound saw, only with an engine attached? Was that an actual tractor hitched to her flatbed?

She had power tools he never even dreamed of. Peeta didn't know whether to be terrified or turned on. And then he saw how good she looked in a tool belt, and he forgot what he had just been thinking about.

"Good morning," she shouted, slamming the driver's side door of the truck shut and tightening the buckle of a heavy work belt around her hips.

"Hi! I mean, good morning. I have coffee! Want some coffee?" he said, the words all running together in one Katniss-obsessed stream of consciousness. He wondered if Katniss had any tool that could make him disappear.

"No thanks, I'm more of a tea drinker." She walked towards him and he noticed that she was wearing coveralls that fit her hips just a bit tighter than the cargo pants did yesterday. These seemed to curve around her hips and ass even better. Or maybe he was imagining that. He checked out her tool belt, which was filled with her own tools of the trade like clippers and shears and a small saw, plus a can of spray paint and a small pickaxe that bounced off the side of her thigh.

"Me too! I mean, I usually am. Just not today. But I like tea." _Shut up, Peeta,_ he thought. _Just stop talking now. _

A tiny crease appeared between her brows. "Okay. Well, I'm going to go get started."

"Okay. Thank you?" he said, his voice breaking to make his gratitude seem like a question. She nodded and pulled the can of spray paint out of her belt before surveying the yard. He watched her take a steady, measured steps with her eyes to the ground and spray bright orange paint every few feet, the marks a series of dashes and lines that he couldn't decipher.

Peeta really could have been perfectly happy to continue standing on the concrete pad where his front porch once stood and watch her for the rest of the day, but he reluctantly pulled himself away. After all, it was going to be a busy day if he wanted to finish the demolition work inside and out by the end of the week.

His morning flew by. Peeta had used his favorite tool, the sledgehammer, to remove the rotted boards from the front and left side of the house. He planned to spend his afternoon ripping out the remaining clapboards and tarping the area back up before it got dark. The advantage of this was the excellent view he had of Katniss and her work. It was hard to tell which impressed him more. Actually, no it wasn't. She looked amazing in that tool belt.

She spent the first hour marking the areas she planned to cut throughout the property. The different markings told her which tool she would hit it with - the brush hog, the chainsaw, the clippers or her own hands. She studied each type of plant, brush and weed that would need to be removed. The biggest problem on Peeta's property was an extensive overgrowth of kudzu, or _Pueraria lobata_, which was a noxious weed that killed desirable plants by growing so fast it smothered them. What she would need to do is to remove the vines mechanically then till the ground to remove the root crowns. Otherwise, the kudzu would only return.

She planned to start at the sections touching the fence first, and work her way in towards the center. Her first step when starting each section would be to make sure there were no insect or animal nests hidden in the brush, then use a combination of her hands and her machete to separate the vines from the fence. After that, she could attack the land with her brush hog, a large machine that looked like a ride-on lawn mower on steroids. It was her personal favorite, although the machete was the most fun to wield.

Once she had laid out her plan of attack for the property, she set up stakes and markers to divide the five acres into sections. Because permanently removing the brush and kudzu required a lot of rolling and cutting by hand, it was better to divide the property up and tackle it bit by bit. This was one of the many lessons her father had taught her.

It turns out that Peeta really did have a complete fence that ran the back perimeter of his property. It was a standard wooden picket fence, and it must have been lovely at one point. Now, it was mostly scratched-up wood and the occasional bit of faded white paint that was completely obscured by thick, tough vines and broad, bright green leaves. She couldn't wait to get that fence cleared and see if it was salvageable, or if she'd have to quote new fencing prices for Peeta.

Peeta. _What a weird name_, she thought. She remembered the teasing she used to receive in grade school over her unusual name and sympathized. When she was young, she longed for a more inconspicuous name that would spare her the attention of her classmates. But when her father died, she held on to the name as a permanent link to him. He and her mother had named Katniss after his favorite plant, after all. She wondered what Peeta was named after. Surely it couldn't be the bread.

Her new client intrigued her. Technically, he was their first client since she and Gale had decided to expand their business into residential landscaping. Before, they had worked with builders to do landscaping for new homes. But when the recession hit, home building slowed to a crawl in their county and they found it necessary to expand their business.

When she had spent an afternoon putting flyers in all of the mailboxes on the street, she saw that the "For Sale" sign that had seemed as old and untended as the property it had sat on had changed into a "Sold" sign. She carefully folded the flyer and placed it inside the rusted mailbox that was nearly impossible to close, and made a wish that the new owner would see it and think of them when it came time to tackle their yard. When she made the wish, she had no idea the new client would be so... well, attractive.

Katniss knew it was inappropriate to check out a client's butt, especially when she was working. She did it anyway. She had been able to avoid ogling him the day before when she gave him an estimate, but today he was covered in sweat and sawdust and she just couldn't help it - that kind of turned her on. He seemed to really know what he was doing with the house, and it pleased her that a house she had always secretly admired was bought by someone who did not just want to tear it down. She wondered what else his hands knew how to do, and blushed.

By noon, she had made good progress. She had marked up, sectioned and staked all five acres of the property into 100 sections, each one ready to be cleared out. She looked at the sun directly above and figured it was time to take her lunch break. Her truck contained a small cooler with her lunch, a modest meal of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an apple and a bottle of water. She planned to eat it in her truck, just as she always did on a job.

Peeta checked his watch and saw that it was exactly 12:04, a perfect time to stop and take a lunch break. Since his kitchen was quite literally in pieces, he planned to drop by the neighborhood deli and pick something up. He wondered if Katniss would let him buy her lunch. Perhaps that was too forward.

He walked towards his truck just as she popped out from the back yard towards her own truck. She was flushed with sun and sweat and hard work, and tiny wisps of wavy hair stuck out from her braid and crowned her face like a halo. The small freckles on her nose seemed even darker today against her olive skin. She was sweaty and dirty and covered in little bits of grass. He thought she was beautiful.

When she ran into him, she hoped that the pink on her cheeks could be blamed on the sun, and not on her reaction to seeing him up close. His blond hair was matted down with sweat and dust from the siding he had removed, and it made his blue eyes even more striking by contrast. His white t-shirt was clinging to him a little tighter than it had this morning, and his dirty jeans seemed to be doing his ass all sorts of favors. He was sweaty and dirty and covered in little bits of plaster. She thought he was stunning.

"I, um... I'm going to get lunch. Can I treat you to something?" he asked, mentally high-fiving himself for not sounding like a complete idiot for once around her.

She shook her head before wiping her forehead. "Oh, no thank you. I brought mine in the truck. I was just about to take a lunch break."

"Me too! I mean, you know that, I just said it. Where were you going to eat?"

She shrugged, and looked at the green pick-up behind them. "Just in my truck."

"No, no... You should eat with me! I mean, please, would you mind eating inside with me?"

She leaned back almost imperceptibly and scowled. "Why?"

_Because I want to kiss you and be naked with you and marry you and father your children, maybe right here on the sidewalk._ That answer didn't seem like it would go over well. "I guess... company? I'd like your company. If that's okay?" _Please let it be okay._

He was mesmerized by her lower lip. She had sucked it in her mouth and started worrying it back and forth between her teeth. He was trying not to gawk or seem creepy - really, he was. He started to point out that he was a nice guy and she had a machete, but he figured she was more than aware of her arsenal. And his friend Annie once told him that if a guy has to tell a girl that he's a "nice guy", he's probably not.

She released her lip but kept the scowl. "Okay. I'll, um, go get my food and check in with the office while you go get your lunch. If that sounds good."

"Great! Sure! Yes!" It was possible he was shouting. _Time to reign it in_. "Okay, I'll go now. I'll be right back! Don't go anywhere. Not that you would. Okay, I'll be back." Maybe he should stop at the hardware store and some duct tape for his mouth.

She nodded and walked towards her truck, starting to loosen her tool belt as she approached it. He practically jumped into his own truck and it took everything in his power not to tear out of the driveway at full speed. _Be cool, Mellark._

Less than ten minutes later, he returned with far more food than he could conceivably eat in one sitting. Perhaps he over-ordered, thinking he could share funny stories with Katniss over a quart of shared potato salad. Or maybe he was just excited to get out of there, and ended up ordering half the menu. Either way, no one was going to go hungry at lunch today.

When he got home, Katniss was in her truck on her phone. She was laughing with whoever she was speaking to, and had a huge smile on her face. It seemed to light up the air around her, and Peeta wondered if he would ever get a chance to make her smile like that. He walked into the house, waving at her once he caught her eye.

After another few minutes, he had lunch all set up, with extra napkins and utensils just in case she wanted to dig in. But every time he looked out of the rickety window, she was still on the phone, laughing away.

_It's probably a boyfriend. There's no way she's single. Not unless it's by choice._ Peeta sat down at the makeshift dining table/work desk in his living room, made of two sawhorses and a large sheet of plywood. He opened a bottle of water, resigning himself to the fact that Katniss would join him whenever she was off the phone with Mr. Wonderful.

Eventually, she did join him, although he did not hear it. Like in the brush of his backyard, her steps were silent and he did not realize she was even there until she spoke.

"Sorry that took so long. I was just on the phone with the office." Peeta jumped at the sound of her voice - his back had been turned to the window and he was inspecting the floorboards of the kitchen, his sledgehammer in hand ready to knock out anything.

His jaw dropped. Her torso, which had previously been sheathed in long-sleeved coveralls, were bare save for a tank top, the sleeves of the coveralls tied around her waist. It was a gray tank top, skimming around the curves of her body and clinging just enough to show that she had worked up a sweat. He was so mesmerized, he didn't even feel it when he dropped the sledgehammer on his foot.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Katniss asked, rushing to his side. The sledgehammer had made a loud bang - first against the toe of his boot, then against the old wooden floor.

"I'm fine... Steel-toed boots," he pointed out. "It's one of the many construction lessons I had to learn the hard way." He kneeled down to check the toe on his boot. Thankfully, the hard boot held up and he had only felt some pressure from the drop. But he had to kneel down to try and cover up his blush, and to distract himself from how close she suddenly was.

She kneeled down next to him and gently placed her left hand on his boot. "Are you sure? With steel-toed boots, if the weight hits the wrong way, it can crush your foot." Her fingers poked around the edge of the toe cap, looking for damage.

"Barely felt a thing." _She's touching me. _He took a deep breath to calm himself and got a whiff of her scent - a mix of sweat, soil, fresh air, and plants. And... something else. He couldn't place it, and he wanted to chase the scent until he was drunk from it. Her face was inches from his, her shoulder so close to touching his own. He wondered what her skin would feel like under his fingers, and he felt a pull in his gut.

"Hard?"

"I'm sorry?" he asked, looking up with a bright red face.

She closed her eyes for a moment and laughed. "Sorry, that sounded..." She shook her head. "You said you learned to wear these boots the hard way. What happened?"

He laughed and his hand returned to the back of his neck. "Well, one day when I was six, I was in the garage with my dad and he was showing me what different tools did what task. While he was talking about socket wrenches, I wandered away and tried to pick up his sledgehammer under his work table. It was a lot heavier than I expected, and I dropped it on my foot. That was my first hardware-related injury."

Katniss sat back on one leg and pulled up the hem of her coveralls around her other foot, exposing a thin pink line peeking out of her sock and wrapping up around her calf. "Here's mine - I was seven and tried to use my dad's weed whacker. I'm pretty sure that thing was bigger than me, but I wanted to try anyway."

The pink scar tissue laid flat along smooth olive skin. It was obviously an old scar and didn't seem to bother her anymore, but it still made Peeta wince. He didn't like the idea of her getting hurt, and before he realized it, he reached out and ran his index finger along the edge of the scar.

Her leg stiffened under his touch, and he pulled his index finger back quickly, embarrassed by his lack of control. "I'm... I'm sorry."

It was too late - she'd already stood up and was moving away, towards her lunch on the sawhorse table. "No, it's fine. It's a pretty gnarly scar."

"No, it's... I shouldn't have - "

"It's fine," she interrupted, stopping the conversation. "You should eat," she said, pointing to his multiple deli containers. "Looks like you're hungry."

He stood up and moved towards the table. "I guess I couldn't decide what to eat, and went overboard. Um, would you like any?"

She shook her head curtly and opened her lunch bag. "I'm good."

Peeta had suddenly lost his appetite, and the awkward silence that followed for the next several minutes didn't help. He snuck guilty looks at Katniss, but she kept her head down and focused on her sandwich, or the table, or anything but him.

He wanted to take that sledgehammer and ram it against his leg. His hands. His face. Anything would be less painful than his humiliation. And he needed a distraction from thinking about how _good_ she had felt under his fingertips.

He had to say something. Anything. This silence was torture. _She hates me. I'm the creepy client who got touchy-feely. She's gonna get on the phone with that boyfriend and tell him all about the creepy guy. And they'll probably both want to kick my ass._

_Find something to talk about, anything..._

"So, how long have you been in the landscaping business?" he blurted out, his enthusiasm at breaking the silence getting the best of him.

She looked up at him, her eyes large with surprise. "Oh. I guess... well, I've been doing it since I was a kid. Worked on crews in high school and after. But this business is pretty new. We only started it last year."

"You and your partner - Gale, right?"

She smiled, and her eyes lit up. "Right. Working outdoors with plants and nature - it's something we always loved."

_Don't ask._ He had to ask. "Gale's a... friend?"

Her smile shifted into something crooked, and a dimple appeared on her left cheek. "We started as friends. Now we're partners. It's a lot more... intense."

"Ah." Peeta still had no idea about this Gale person, but from the look on her face, they seemed to be close. _There's no way she's single. _

They kept up small talk for a bit, but soon Katniss excused herself to return to work. "Don't want the client to think I'm slacking on the job," she joked.

He barked out a quick laugh. "No, no, I would never. You're doing really great out there. I mean, from what I can see. I wasn't watching." _Smooth. _

"Thanks," she said, suddenly shy. He did not miss the red flush on her cheeks and neck. "You too. I mean... okay, I'm going outside." She rushed out before Peeta could say anything else.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his palms over his face. _You're the creepy guy, Mellark._

Katniss rushed out to her truck to grab her tool belt and get back to work. Anything to get her mind off the idea of him watching her work, or how good it had felt when he touched her leg. _You're an idiot, Everdeen. _

When Peeta had been at the deli, she had called the office and was promptly grilled about her morning by their office manager, Madge.

"_Is he cute? He must be cute. Scratch that, he must be smoking hot," Madge teased._

"_Shut up, Madge."_

"_Take his picture and send it to me! I wanna see!"_

_Katniss cracked up laughing in the truck. "That's professional. 'Excuse me, Mr. Mellark. Can I take your picture for our office manager? She wants to check you out.'"_

"_No," Madge corrected. "I want to see what you're checking out. He got every discount we offer, plus your brilliant idea to work solo. You didn't want Gale cockblocking you."_

"_Excuse me! Gale needs to be out drumming up business with those new commercial developments on the south side. Besides, Gale hates kudzu. I was doing him a favor."_

"_Katniss, everybody hates kudzu. Try again."_

"_I'm hanging up now."_

"_Wait! Unzip your coveralls. It's hot. When Gale does that, oh my G-"_

Katniss had made a retching sound into the phone and hung up before Madge could tell her anything else. It was gross enough to see her two closest friends making out at the office. She didn't need any other details.

Now that she had thoroughly embarrassed herself in front of their client, she slipped the sleeves of the coveralls back on and zipped up. Once her tool belt was fastened, she sent a quick text to Madge.

_I hate you. Never unzipping my coveralls around anyone ever again._

The reply came back before she reached the first perimeter section. _Did he enjoy the gun show?_

Katniss didn't reply.

She was so embarrassed with herself. First, she had unzipped her coveralls trying to catch his eye, but he had dropped the sledgehammer on his foot. Then she showed him her leg scar and probably grossed him out. Peeta probably liked girly girls who didn't show off their scars or wear sweat-soaked tank tops.

She dipped her nose under the neckline of her coveralls and took a whiff. _Ugh_. He probably liked girls with better personal hygiene.

_Besides_, she thought, _there's no way he's single._

Peeta and Katniss spent the afternoon working through their own embarrassment and throwing themselves into their respective work. By the end of the afternoon, the dumpster was filled with rotted clapboards and two sections of the yard's perimeter had been cleared.

He wasn't sure what time she'd be wrapping up, but he figured he didn't have much time. She'd be leaving soon, and she had avoided eye contact with him all afternoon. Should he apologize for touching her leg? Should he keep a professional tone? Should he propose? _Probably not the last one. _

As he was dumping the last of the day's demo waste into the dumpster, his thoughts were interrupted at the sight of a familiar SUV pulling up to his curb. He took his gloves off and wiped the sweat and dust from his face as Finnick parked.

"My God, Mellark. I was so wrong about this place. It already looks like a mansion."

"Funny, jackass. What's up?"

"Just checking to make sure you're still alive. Annie saw the listing of this place, and she thought it was haunted. Of course, now with all of these missing boards, this place doesn't look creepy at all."

"I'm about to tarp it."

"Yeah, that'll help," Finnick said with a wry smile. He opened his mouth to make another quip, then lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "Hel-lo," he said quietly.

Peeta turned his head behind him, and saw Katniss walking out from behind the house, a chainsaw in one hand and a very large pair of clippers in the other. She looked at Peeta, then Finnick. Aware that they were staring with slackened jaws, she gave a tight smile to both then walked quickly to her truck.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Finnick looked back at Peeta. "Dude!"

Peeta shook his head no. "Dude."

Finnick nodded. "Dude."

Peeta cocked his head and gave Finnick a warning look. "_Dude_."

Before Peeta could say anything else, Finnick turned and rushed towards Katniss's truck.

"Good afternoon, m'lady," Finnick said, wearing a smile that seemed to make every one of his teeth sparkle. "I'm Peeta's oldest and best-looking friend, Finnick. And you are...?"

It took everything in her not to roll her eyes, but she couldn't help scowling. _He could be a client,_ Katniss thought. She nodded her head towards the sign on the door of her truck and forced a tight smile. "Everthorne Landscaping."

Finnick raised one eyebrow but kept that smile on. "Is that a family name, Ms. Landscaping?"

Peeta grimaced. Finnick always bragged that he was a great wingman for him, but all he ever did was hit on women before Peeta could and end up in bed with them. To Katniss's credit, it did not seem like she was vulnerable to Finnick's charms. In fact, he thought he saw her roll her eyes a bit. "Finnick, this is Katniss. I hired her company to do the landscaping since you and Haymitch said I was so bad at it. Katniss, this is Finnick, my very _married_ friend."

Katniss raised an eyebrow back at Finnick, who smiled in apology. "Yes, Katniss, I'm afraid I'm off the market."

"I'm crushed," she said, her sarcasm wounding poor Finnick's ego. She looked behind Finnick to where Peeta was standing.

"I'm all wrapped up for the day, so I'll see you tomorrow." Peeta started to say something to her, but he forgot all of the words he had planned. So he just stood next to his offended friend and watched her get in her truck and drive away. As soon as she had turned the corner and was out of view, Peeta punched Finnick in the shoulder as hard as he could.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Finnick grabbed his shoulder in shock.

"You're married!" Peeta yelled. "I'm telling Annie!"

"I wasn't hitting on her, I'm your wingman!"

"You're an asshole!"

"I'm your friend, and I'm trying to get you laid. You've been in a slump," Finnick said, rubbing his shoulder.

"You're not helping. You were totally hitting on her."

"No. I was being charming, so she knows what kind of nice people you associate with. Please Peeta, I married the perfect woman. I'm not gonna flirt with the help."

Peeta punched his other shoulder, even harder. "Stop being an asshole, her name is Katniss!"

Finnick cursed and grabbed his shoulder, then looked at Peeta with a triumphant smile. "I knew it. You _like_ her. I knew it! You think I didn't see the way you were looking at her? It's like you were a puppy and you wanted her to adopt you."

"I'll hit you again," Peeta warned before turning towards to the house. "Besides, there's no way she's single."

"I didn't see a ring," Finnick said, walking after him.

"Maybe she doesn't wear it on a job," Peeta said, the idea putting a sinking feeling into his stomach. He walked into the house and sat down at the makeshift table. "Besides, she talked a lot about her partner. Someone named Gale."

"Gail?" Finnick said, laughing. "Figures you'd fall for a lesbian."

"Wait, she's not...," Peeta trailed off, trying to think if he could remember Katniss referring to her partner as a man or a woman. "Gale could be a guy's name."

"Who names a boy Gail?" Finnick sat down across from him.

"Who names their kid Peeta? She called this person her partner, not her girlfriend," Peeta pointed out, trying to convince himself.

"'Partner' is what gay people call their significant other."

"It's also what _business_ partners call each other."

"You know, this makes sense. She wasn't into me at all, and that never happens."

"I seem to recall Annie turning you down three times before she went on a date with you."

"I won her over, didn't I?" Finnick said, holding up his left hand to show off his wedding ring.

"Why did you come over here again?"

"Obviously, to save you from yourself. If you're gonna fall for someone, do it with someone you have a chance with."

Peeta glared at him. "I have a chance with her!"

Finnick laughed. "Tell that to Gail." He stood up and walked over to Peeta, giving him a much-harder-than-necessary smack on the back. "Come on, Lover Boy. I'll buy you a beer."

Peeta sighed, defeated. _There's no way she's single._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks again for reading this story, and your lovely kudos, likes, follows, and comments. Special thanks to fairmellarky, jennagill, wollaston and sunfishdunes for pre-reading, making suggestions and generally holding my hand through this. Love you!_

_I'm on tumblr (fnurfnur) - come share your dick jokes and landscaping puns with me. _

* * *

She ate lunch with him every day for the rest of the week. On Wednesday, he asked her again to join him. By Friday, she didn't need to be asked, she just came in. He stopped buying so much food at the deli, but she did grab some chips from his bag once. It made him smile.

Peeta managed to keep his hands to himself, but it wasn't easy. By the end of the week, he had decided that he definitely needed to get his mattress out of storage. Because it must have been the uncomfortable sleeping bag that kept him tossing and turning. Not the thought of Katniss, or touching her skin, or that tank top that he hasn't seen since the first day. Nope, not at all.

He didn't ask about Gale anymore, or maybe it was Gail. Or Gayle? It would probably have been creepy for him to keep asking. Also, he didn't really want to know anymore. Finnick periodically texted him throughout the day, trying to be a good wingman.

_(9:32 a.m.) Finnick: Did Gail come with her today? Take pictures._

_(11:13 a.m.) Finnick: Maybe she's bisexual. Score!_

_(1:24 p.m.) Finnick: Don't tell her about the poison ivy story. Please let me do that._

_(3:40 p.m.) Finnick: I'm not an asshole, you're an asshole. P.S. Annie says hi._

Peeta decides to text Annie for help.

_(3:45 p.m.) Peeta: Your husband needs a hobby._

She replies immediately.

_(3:46 p.m.) Annie: Oh, he has one. Have you met Gail yet?_

He silenced his phone, but it still vibrated loudly. He tried to ignore it, especially when having lunch with Katniss.

"You're a popular guy," she commented. Finnick and Annie had been teasing him all day.

"Not really. That's all from Finnick and his wife, Annie. They're both... well, they're both making fun of me right now, so I'm ignoring it."

"Making fun of you? Why?"

"Who knows?" he lied. "By the way... I'm sorry about Finnick the other day."

She used a napkin to wipe some crumbs from her mouth. "Don't be. It's not the first time I've had guys hit on me when I'm on the job. It doesn't upset me - after all, they're barking up the wrong tree."

_(1:47 p.m.) Finnick: Ask Katniss if she and Gail want to double date with Annie and I. There's a revival of The Vagina Monologues in town, they'd probably love it._

Peeta replied to both of them.

_(1:50 p.m.) Peeta: Any text I get from now on about Katniss will result in a punch to Finnick's face. One text = one punch._

_(1:56 p.m.) Finnick: We're dropping by on Friday evening - Annie wants to see the place. Plus, we may or may not be there in time to see this nameless person doing your landscaping. What was her name, Gatniss?_

He turned his phone off.

By the end of the week, he was wondering if there was a non-creepy way to see her over the weekend. Actually, maybe it was better that he didn't see her over the weekend. He still needed to do demo inside some of the house, but he had been concentrating on rooms which happened to have a view of wherever Katniss was working that day. So the rooms in the front - the foyer, the living room, the dining room and two bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs still needed attention. Peeta hated the idea of going two entire days without seeing her, even though he had only met her on Monday, but he really needed to get the work done this weekend so he could do insulation, electrical, and patch the plumbing next week.

The work would probably go by faster when he wasn't looking at her every few seconds, anyway.

On Friday afternoon, Peeta was debating between asking Katniss to leave early to avoid a run-in with Finnick and Annie and preventing his extreme humiliation, or having a little extra time around her. Before he could fully make up his mind, he heard a knock on his front door.

"Hi!" said a short, curvy blonde woman. "I'm Delly, I'm your new neighbor! I just wanted to come over and introduce myself and welcome you to the neighborhood!"

Peeta stuck out his hand to shake hers. "Hi, I'm Peeta. Nice to meet you! Which house is yours?"

She leaned back and pointed left, down the street. "That yellow one over there. I'm pretty new to the neighborhood too, I only moved in about two months ago. Sorry I'm just coming by now, but I just realized that this house was bought and that you were doing work on it!"

Peeta smiled and shrugged. "No worries, this is my first week in the house. I'm still doing demolition - I have a long way to go."

"And who is this?" a familiar feminine voice said behind Delly. While Peeta had been distracted with his new neighbor, Annie and Finnick had arrived and snuck up behind them.

"This isn't her. Although I have yet to meet this lovely lady," Finnick said, extending his hand.

"I'm Delly," she said. "I'm Peeta's neighbor. Just dropping by to say welcome!"

"Delly, my name is Finnick, and this is my lovely wife, Annie. We are Peeta's very best friends in the world." They ignored the snort Peeta made in response.

"I was just telling Peeta that I'm new here myself. Only moved in about two months ago."

"Oh, where did you move from?" Annie asked.

"Over near Merchant Square. My girlfriend and I had been renting a place there for a few years. We broke up recently, so I decided to buy a house on the other side of town as part of the healing process."

Finnick's eyebrows shot up so high, they nearly took flight. "Delly, may I ask your professional opinion of something?"

"No," Peeta warned.

"Sure," Delly said.

"Excellent. So, as a lady who loves the ladies, you're able to pick out your... fellow brethren?"

"Well, we lesbians don't usually wear a big flashing rainbow sign, but I'd like to think I could at least pick out someone who is flirting with me," Delly said, her amused smile the polar opposite of Peeta's scowl.

"Of course you can! See, our dear Peeta here has developed a bit of a crush on someone, and I happen to believe that she... well, plays for your team," Finnick said. Annie rolled her eyes and shook her head, but was unable to stifle her grin. Peeta covered his face with his hands.

Delly nodded. "I see. You think she's a sister of the pink triangle?"

"Is that what you call yourselves?" Finnick asked, incredulous.

"No," Delly teased.

He pointed at her. "You got me there, Delly. I like you."

"So, you want me to meet this woman Peeta is interested and talk to her? So you can see if she's gay, straight, or something in-between?"

"There's in-between?" Annie asked.

"You have no idea," Delly said with a wink.

Finnick gave his most brilliant smile, the one he saved for getting away with the most devious of things. "What do you say, Delly? Are you game? We'll owe you a bottle of your favorite wine."

Delly raised her eyebrows. "Well, I can't say no to that. Where is she?"

Peeta had never been so flustered in his life. Is this really happening? Now I have to move, because I'll never be able to face my neighbor again.

Finnick searched around and spotted her along the side of the house. He pointed her out to Annie and Delly. "There. Katniss. That little wisp of a brunette in the green t-shirt and overalls."

Delly looked, then turned to Finnick. "Please tell me you don't think she's gay just because she's wearing overalls."

Finnick placed his hand on his heart in mock offense. "Please, Delly. I have some scruples. I think she's gay because she wasn't interested in me. Also, because she said she has a partner named Gail."

"Her _business_ partner," Peeta interjected.

"That could be a guy's name," Delly said.

"That's what I said!" Peeta said.

"Or it could be the name of a sexy, sapphic goddess that Katniss goes home to every night," Finnick said.

Delly nodded. "Also true. Okay, then. You want me to do it now?"

"No," Peeta said.

"Yes," Annie said.

"_Yes_," Finnick insisted.

Delly looked at Peeta with sympathy and placed her hand on his shoulder in consolation. "Sorry, neighbor. You're outnumbered. Be right back!"

She hopped off the cement slab that currently served as Peeta's front porch, and walked towards Katniss.

Katniss kept her eyes down, trying not to look at the pretty blonde girl coming her way. Just as she had tried to keep her eyes off Peeta all day (unsuccessfully), she had tried not to stare when this woman came up and started talking to him. Then Finnick and a lovely dark-haired woman, who Katniss assumed was Finnick's wife, came up and they all seemed to get along so well. Katniss wasn't good at making friends. This blonde woman looked like the type she figured Peeta would go for. And Katniss had to talk herself out of pulling her machete when the woman approached.

"If she really does this, I'm buying her two bottles of wine," Finnick said.

"Make it a case," Annie said.

"Don't I owe you a punch in the face?" Peeta said, trying not to stare as Delly greeted Katniss.

"You're gonna owe me a thank you in a few minutes," Finnick said, unable to tear his eyes away.

They couldn't hear what was being said. All they could do was observe - Delly calling out to Katniss and reaching out her hand, Katniss taking it with the slightest scowl on her face. Delly talking and gesturing a lot. Then Katniss turned and pointed around the property she had been clearing.

They kept talking.

"This is taking a lot longer than I thought," Finnick said. Annie shushed him.

Katniss started to smile and the scowl melted from her face as she talked excitedly. She grabbed something small from her back pocket, scribbled something on it and handed it to Delly. After a moment of talking and nodding, both women shook hands, and Delly turned back towards the group staring at them on the porch. Katniss turned back to her work of snipping vines along the fence.

Delly had the biggest shit-eating grin that Peeta had ever seen, and that was saying a lot since he was friends with Finnick.

"Well?" Finnick asked as soon as she was within whispering earshot.

"Well...I got her number!" Delly said triumphantly.

Finnick shot his hands up in the air, announcing his own personal touchdown.

"I mean, I got her office number," Delly said, pulling a business card with Katniss's handwriting on it. "And unless she calls herself 'Madge' afterhours, I don't think she's interested."

"Who's Madge?" Annie asked.

"She told me to call their office and speak to Madge to schedule an estimate. I don't know if Katniss is gay, but she's a damn good landscaper. I'm hiring them."

"Wait..." Finnick said.

Delly turned to Peeta. "Ask her out. You'll do fine."

She started to walk down the sidewalk towards the street. "It was nice to meet you all! Oh, and Finnick? I've always wanted to try Latour's Bordeaux Red. Maybe, 2009? Thanks! Have a good evening!"

Annie started giggling. Peeta snorted and laughed. Finnick pulled out his smartphone and started typing.

"_THAT'S A $2200 BOTTLE!_," he screamed.

"_And didn't I hear you would buy me two?_" Delly shouted back.

The rest of the evening and weekend went by with little incident. Finnick was too upset to give Katniss or Peeta a hard time, and Annie was her usual quiet but polite self when she introduced herself. Katniss loaded her truck and gave Peeta a wave and goodbye, but none of them missed the shy smile she gave him, too. This time, it was Annie who punched Peeta in the shoulder.

"I think she likes you!" she squealed.

That little boost of confidence was more than enough to keep Peeta motivated through the weekend. He finished the demolition in every room, and filled the dumpster to the very top. The dumpster service brought him an empty one and hauled away the first one, taking a couple of tons of clapboards, linoleum, old insulation, worn-out hardwoods and studs, plaster and busted drywall, bathroom fixtures, rickety cabinets, and banged-up kitchen counters out to the dump. The house looked like a piece of Swiss cheese without the tarps protecting the exposed walls from the weather, but Peeta knew he was making great progress. He even had time to get his mattress and linens set up in the house, and finally got a decent night of sleep.

One of the selling points of the home was the copper plumbing. Considering the state of the rest of the house, the plumbing was in very good shape. From what he could tell, only about a quarter of it would need to be replaced, and that was only from stagnant water sitting in the pipes and corroding the bottoms. Otherwise, the plumbing was set and Peeta was thankful.

Although Peeta loved working on houses and doing the reconstruction and restoration, there were certain tasks he enjoyed more than others. Electrical and plumbing were not his favorites, but at least those tasks should be done in another week, and then he could move on to the things he loved, like the woodworking details or restoring floors.

On Monday morning, he brewed a pot of coffee and boiled a kettle of water on his portable stove, just in case he could interest Katniss in some tea. He had thought about her a lot over the weekend, and he couldn't wait to see her face again. If Annie could see him, she'd describe him as giddy and probably punch his shoulder again, which had hurt a bit more than he cared to admit.

His phone buzzed. _Damnit, Finnick..._

_(7:14 a.m.) 704-555-9842: Hey, it's Katniss. On my way, but there's a 3 car pile-up en route. May be a bit late._

(7:15 a.m.) Peeta: No problem! Drive safe - no texting behind the wheel!

He cringed that he probably sounded like an old man when he told her that, but dismissed it and immediately saved her number in his phone. Before, he only had Everthorne Landscaping's main office number to use if he needed to reach her. But now, he had her cell... would afterhours texting be inappropriate? Probably. Maybe. Not sure.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and kept the kettle boiling for her. Since he had no idea when she would arrive, he decided to start working on the plumbing. He identified sections of the pipe in the first floor kitchen and bathroom that needed replacement, specifically the P-trap in each sink drain and some sections of straight pipe. Copper replacements were expensive, but absolutely worth the price. After all, this plumbing system had lasted for about 50 years, according to the bank's records on the property. Steel and PVC pipe couldn't come close to that.

First, he turned off the shut-off valves. This kept the flow of water from running through the pipes when he opened them up, and kept him from starting a small flood in the house. One thing that bothered him about the system was there were only a very small number of shut-off points. That would mean that in the future, if he needed to do repairs, he'd have to shut off the water for most of the house before working on even a small area.

Over the weekend, he had picked replacement shut-off valves and a couple of extra ones, and had marked installation points for them. _Better to have more shut-off points than less, Peeta,_ he could remember his dad telling him. That way, if he ever needed to fix a toilet in one of the bathrooms, the toilets in the rest of the house (and sinks!) would still work during the repairs. He also decided to replace the existing shut-off valves with new ones, as they were usually the first things that needed replacing in a pipe system.

After he shut off the water, he ran the excess water in the kitchen and bathroom sinks to get any sitting water out of the pipes. This would hopefully keep any water sitting in the pipes from spraying everywhere when he opened them up, unless there was a clog somewhere. That amount of water wouldn't cause damage, just a mess he'd rather avoid.

After doing all of the prep work, it was after 8 a.m. and Katniss had still not arrived. Peeta considered texting her again, but he didn't want to see too eager or distract her while she was driving. He might as well get as much of the dirty work done as possible before she arrived and served as an excellent distraction.

_(8:04 a.m.) Katniss: Cops have finally cleared the area and traffic moving again. Be there soon!_

_(8:05 a.m.) Peeta: Great! There's tea here for you, if you'd like._

She didn't reply, and he hoped it was because she was concentrating on driving safe instead of being weirded out that he got her some tea. Technically, he just boiled water. And bought tea packets. In twelve different flavors. At a special tea store. No big deal.

The first P-trap he decided to replace was in the kitchen, and looked like it would be easy enough to swap out. But looks can be deceiving.

He originally thought the corrosion was limited to the bend and not along the seam. However, loosening the couplings required far more elbow grease than it should have, and when they were finally removed he could smell the oxidation. It had been a few years since Peeta had been confronted with the smell of abraded copper and dingy water, and the memory was not a pleasant one. He hoped he could finish and air out the room before Katniss arrived.

If only he could get this damn section off.

The corrosion and oxidation served as a sort of glue between the pipe sections. The P-trap should have come off easily, but instead Peeta had to yank it down with all of his strength to even get it to wiggle.

He started to rock it back and forth, cursing at it with every pull.

"This...is why...I fucking...hate...PLUMBING...FUCK!"

The last motion released the bend, and released bits of oxidized copper and smelly water all over him. His face, his neck, his chest.

Peeta wiggled out from beneath the sink, wiping the mess from his face. His eyes were stinging and he was pretty sure some even sprayed into his mouth and nose. He could tell his shirt was covered as well, so he took it off and used the back of it to wipe his face.

_Super_, he thought, pacing back and forth in a panic. _I'm covered in funk and the water to the shower is turned off and Katniss will be here any minute._

"DAMNIT," he yelled, whipping the wet t-shirt behind him in frustration.

Instead of the THWACK sound against the wall that he was expecting, he heard a wet slapping sound and a surprised voice. "Oof!"

_Oh no._

He turned around, horrified at what he saw. His stinky, wet, disgusting t-shirt had hit Katniss right in the face. She must have just been walking in.

Katniss pulled the shirt off her face, which started to turn bright pink.

"I am so sorry! I didn't see you there! Are you okay?" Peeta said, rushing forward to relieve her of the shirt.

"It's fine... um, I was just walking in, and you know, I was gonna say hi because I was late, but you know that, so I'm gonna go outside, I think, maybe right after I wipe my face..." she trailed off, her eyes looking everywhere but at him.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to get you all wet."

Her eyes grew huge and her face turned even darker. He'd never seen that shade of red on a person.

"It's fine, I'm fine, um, I'm gonna go work now!" And she was gone before he could apologize any more.

Katniss walked out of the house fast and rushed out to her truck to grab a spare bottle of water. She poured a bit over her head, both to rinse her face and to cool off her burning cheeks.

_He had his shirt off. Sweet nippled Jesus, he had his shirt off._

She hadn't just walked in there as he threw the shirt. She'd been standing there for a little bit, frozen in place in the doorway as she watched him pace his kitchen with no shirt on.

_He should always be shirtless. There should be a law about it._

She put her hands on her cheeks and felt the heat burning through her fingers. _Seriously, Katniss? You're blushing? Are you some boy-crazy teenager?_

It was time to work, not only to catch up on the time she had missed, but to give her a good distraction. She picked up the machete - it was the perfect tool to use to distract yourself from built-up sexual frustration.

Throwing herself into her job soon helped. After about an hour, she was thinking more about the growth pattern of the vines and the welcome feel of burning in her shoulders than she was about Peeta. Topless Peeta. Peeta taking his clothes off. _GET IT TOGETHER, EVERDEEN!_

Peeta spent the morning replacing the rest of the P-traps and pipes while simultaneously wishing he could disappear from the face of the earth. He was just so humiliated - he threw a wet, stinky T-shirt on her face! She probably hated him and was telling Gale, or Gail, or Gayle how awful he was. He really hoped she didn't get any of the water in her mouth, like he had. His tongue still felt weird.

When it was almost lunch time, he told himself that there was no way she would still want to eat with him. So it was a very pleasant surprise when she walked in just a bit after noon and sat at the sawhorse table. She gave him a little smile, and quickly looked down and tucked in to her sandwich. Her face wasn't flushed any more, but he thought he saw a blush creeping along the tops of her ears and along her neck. It crept down below the neckline of her T-shirt, and he wondered how low it -

"I'll knock next time," she blurted out, interrupting his train of thought.

"Huh?" he asked. _Did I miss something? I was thinking about her chest. I bet I missed something._

"The next time I come in. I'll knock first. You know, just in case."

He closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with my hands. "I'm really, really sorry about that. I can't believe my terrible aim."

She snickered. "Actually, your aim was perfect."

"I was definitely not trying to hit you with a wet T-shirt."

"And yet...," she said, smiling at him. He couldn't help but return it. _She has no idea, the effect she has on me..._

"Seriously. In my line of work, I've encountered worse," she said.

"With landscaping? It's plants and sticks, how gross can it be?" he asked.

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, there are rotting plants, stagnant water, dead bugs, live bugs, live animals and their waste, dead animals and their waste... should I go on?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "I give."

"Anyway," she continued. "It was fine. Really. Um, did you get it fixed?"

"I did! I mean, it took a while. I really don't like plumbing. It's just not my thing."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before buying a fixer-upper?"

He laughed. "Yeah, true. Thankfully, the plumbing here is actually in pretty good shape so I only need to do a little. In fact, I should have the pipework done today. When I redo the bathrooms and kitchen, I'll replace the sinks and toilets and fixtures. But by the end of the day, everything that's here will be functional."

"That's really cool. That you can do all this, I mean."

"Thanks. I mean, I can't do landscaping. That's a whole different thing."

She shook her head and and reached up to massage her left shoulder. His hand twitched, wishing it was on her skin.

"It's not hard at all. You just have to learn how. Besides, I'm sure you did some of it as a kid."

He cringed. "I had a lot of bad experiences with it as a kid. I'll tell you one day. Not today, though. I think I've embarrassed myself enough around you for one day."

She laughed, and nodded. They chatted easily about their weekends, and the work she had done so far in the yard. But soon her sandwich and apple were done, and she stood up to return to work.

"By the way," she said with a wry smile before walking through the doorway, "when I said I'd knock, I didn't mean in case you were going to throw something. I meant in case you didn't have clothes on. Ha." That sounded casual, right?

It was supposed to be a joke, but once she had said it, the memory caused her cheeks to flush again. She felt the heat creeping across her face, and left before she could embarrass herself more.

_Was she blushing? Because of me? Because I had my shirt off?_

For a split second, Peeta kind of loved plumbing.


	4. Chapter 4

One day in high school, Katniss had to get up in front of her entire World History class to read her paper on the events that led to the First World War. Every student had an assigned topic, and every student had to get up and present. That didn't make it any less scary for Katniss. Her paper was nothing special but it fulfilled the assignment. It was the idea of speaking in front of 32 people, even people she saw every single day in class, and being watched and scrutinized that terrified her.

_Thanks to everyone who is still reading, liking, favoriting, following and commenting on this story! Find me at tumblr as fnurfnur. _

* * *

She had met Madge just this year, and sat with her every day at lunch. At first that didn't really talk, just both enjoyed silent companionship without judgment. Eventually, they opened up and learned about each other. Madge was shy but kind and had no problem speaking to others. But because of her father's career in politics, she saw people befriending others just for political favors, and turning on them when the odds (and votes) weren't in their favor. Madge wanted a real friend - not someone who just wanted to get in with her father's campaign. She found that in Katniss.

"How do you talk to people?" Katniss asked her one day at lunch.

Madge furrowed her brows. "Well funny enough, you're actually doing it right now."

"I mean groups of people. I have to get up in front of everyone in Mr. Payne's class next period and read my paper. It's very possible I'll vomit."

"You may want to warn the people sitting up front, then."

"I'm serious, Madge! How do you talk to groups of people? Didn't you ever have to do anything like that with your dad?"

Madge shrugged. "A couple of times, but always with my mom and dad. Shit about family values and stuff."

"So?" Katniss pleaded. "How?"

Madge sighed and put her sandwich down. "Sometimes I would pretend I was acting on stage and putting on a performance."

Katniss frowned. "I don't think that will work for me. That sounds even more terrifying."

"Then try picturing them naked."

"Excuse me?" Katniss started choking on her apple, and it took a few minutes of coughing before Madge could explain.

"Picture them naked - exposed and vulnerable. It gets your mind off of your fear, and makes you feel more confident because you still have your clothes on."

The problem with this was Katniss didn't have too much experience in seeing naked people. There was the occasional R-rated movie she snuck in to with Gale and Madge, and then the patients her mom saw at home after hours when her clinic was closed. These were people sick or injured who couldn't afford the hospital, and her mother never turned them away. Prim was a natural at helping her mom, but Katniss never could stomach it. They would often have to be undressed or exposed so her mom could work on them, but all Katniss saw was bleeding wounds, or bites and stings, or rashes, or skin and bones suffering from malnutrition. Not the kind of visual she wanted to have while giving a speech.

Almost a decade later, Katniss couldn't fully recall what she did to get through that presentation. She didn't picture anyone naked, but she didn't pretend to be an actress either. If she recalled correctly, her presentation wasn't the best but it also wasn't the worst, and in the end it only counted for a very tiny portion of her grade, anyway. Like many things in life, the anticipation had been far more fearsome than the actual event.

The difference between then and now was that Katniss had finally discovered the secret to being comfortable with talking to someone. There's nothing quite like seeing your client topless to break the ice for future conversations. Katniss had never been a master of conversation. Even with her best friends, or her little sister Prim, she'd often prefer mutually enjoyed quiet to directionless chatter. She usually just kept her mouth shut.

When she and Gale started this business together, it was Madge who had to coach them both in customer service. She was the friendly one of the group, although she was just as quiet and introverted as they were. But she had spent enough time on the campaign trail with her father, currently state senator, to understand the importance of a smile, a handshake and a few smooth words. "You're going to be interacting with people - people who you want to pay for your services. Maybe having permanent grumpyface and mumbling their names isn't the best idea?"

Thankfully, Katniss never had to interact with clients beyond initial greetings, agreements over scopes of work and landscaping plans, and polite small talk. She had never wanted to know more about a client. Except for this one.

Every day, she began to make it a point to find out a little more about Peeta. It started with asking about where he learned these skills. He smiled and put his sandwich down on the table, and his mind seemed to travel back in time to find the cherished memory.

"When I was a little kid, we lived in this big, old house. It was me and two older brothers, and my mom and dad. My dad loved the house - it was almost a hundred years old, and had been a home to so many families. He always said you could feel the love in an old house, because love is what brings an old house alive. So every time he had to fix something around the house, which was often," he laughed, "he told us he was going to fix it with love."

"Is that a euphemism for duct tape, because that's what we fixed a lot of things with," Katniss joked.

"Sometimes, it was," he smiled. "For a long time, he did the repairs himself. See, my oldest brother was more interested in the family business - we ran a bakery, and my brother Bran had a real knack for the business side. He took over the bakery by the time he was 25. My other brother, Rye, like to experiment with recipes but didn't have the head for business. He's actually in Italy right now being trained as a chef."

"So what about you?"

"Well, my mom always said she didn't know what to do with me. I think she meant that literally since I was what you would call a 'surprise' baby."

Katniss nodded. "Ah. So was I."

"You have older siblings?"

"No, I'm the oldest of two. Let's just say my mom walked down the aisle with something old, something new, something borrowed, and something the size of a blueberry in her uterus." He smiled and laughed at her joke, and the sound made her blush. She loved making him laugh. He smiled all the time though, she didn't think that was her doing. But she hoped one or two of the smiles were for her.

"Well, when I was born, my mom didn't try to guide me into the business because that was taken care of. I'd like to say I was just encouraged to go into whatever I wanted to, but I think my mom just didn't really care."

"That can't be true."

"No, it's okay. I just ended up following my dad. And as soon as Bran was old enough to start taking over more duties in the bakery and Rye was able to help, my dad was able to do more things around the house, like he had always wanted to do. And I just followed him all over the house, watching him and helping him. At first he just liked the company - he could tell me stories of my grandparents or from his childhood and I'd never get tired of hearing about them. Then I asked him to start teaching me, like his father taught him."

She pictured a little blonde toddler, running around with a toy tool belt trying to catch up to his father, and smiled. "I bet you two made quite the pair."

He smiled, but a bit of sadness had crept into his eyes. "We were. All my life. But he passed away a few years ago. Heart disease."

She felt something cold wrap itself around her chest. It was the same feeling she always had when she thought of the empty space her own father's death had left in her.

"I'm sorry about your father. Mine is, too. I mean, about eight years ago. Um, drunk driver." She looked down at her hands and wrung her fingers in her lap, trying to hide her nervous habit.

"I'm sorry about your father, too." She looked up and saw him looking at her, intensely and with sorrow but not a trace of pity. Usually when people - people who still _had_ their dad - found about her her own father, it was impossible for them to hide their pity. She hated it. Peeta had none for her, because he hated the pity, too.

She didn't even hear him get out of his chair, but before she knew it he was next to her, kneeling down, looking up at her with those blue eyes of his that didn't even seem real, especially since she had seen them in her dreams so many times by now. He slowly reached out and took one of her hands in his and squeezed it lightly before releasing it and standing back up. She's not sure what happened immediately after that, because she was so overcome by his proximity and smell and heat and presence and kindness.

Peeta was not the sort of person Katniss knew how to handle. And Peeta felt the same way about her. He had taken a chance by holding her hand, but he couldn't help it. For a split second, her tough mask fell away and there was such sadness behind her eyes that he was determined to do something to assuage it. He wanted to hug her but thought that was probably too much, especially since it was only last week he had touched her leg and ran her out of his kitchen. So he picked up her hand - small but deceptively strong, like so much of her - and squeezed it softly between his own. Then he walked away to show he wasn't being creepy. But he hoped that in some way, she felt comforted. Just holding her hand for a second had comforted him.

The next day, he asked about her and to her own surprise, she shared a lot with him. Katniss grew up in town, just as he had. She grew up in an area that his mother never let him visit, an area Mrs. Mellark called "the armpit of Panem" but was more popularly known as the Seam. Katniss's father worked on a landscaping crew with a couple of dozen other men, always finding work wherever they could. Spring through fall was their busiest time, and she would tag along with her father to jobs because she figured it was the only way she could spend time with him on busy days. During the winter, business was very slow and he would have lots of time to spend with Katniss. He taught her about plants and living off of the land. He made her a bow and arrow and taught her how to shoot and to survive. For Katniss, it had felt like a big game until one day when everything changed.

After her father's death, she took his place on the crew and worked alongside his friends, his brothers. They accepted her as one of their own, and taught her all sorts of tricks and techniques of the trade. "Your dad would have taught you all this," her crew captain Chaff had said. "We're just picking up where he left off."

By the time she was 22, she was informally running the crew. They took orders from her, but most businesses and clients preferred to work with a man, or at least someone a bit older. Her best friend Gale, the son of one of the crew members, had gone into the family business as well and proposed a partnership with her. They were both skilled landscapers. Gale specialized in strategy and design, and she excelled in labor and tactics. And as much as she hated to admit it, Gale's presence as co-owner helped close a lot of deals that she had been unable to close herself, when clients thought she was just a little girl playing dress-up in her daddy's clothes.

Most of the members of the old crew had retired, but were always willing to work here and there for Katniss and Gale on bigger jobs. Madge joined on to help run the business end, and she and Gale started dating. _Finally_.

"Does your sister still live around here?" Peeta asked.

"No, and that's a good thing," she said. "Prim worked her ass off in school so that she could go to college, and she worked her ass off in college so that she could be where she is right now - in med school and soon starting her internship at Johns Hopkins."

"Good grief," Peeta said in admiration. "Two smart, successful, amazing daughters. Your dad would be very proud. I'm sure your mom is."

She flushed in embarrassment, both from his compliment that melted her insides into something soft and fluffy, and because she didn't want to admit that she had not heard from her mom in several years.

"Well, I'm sure your dad would be very proud of you. And that your mom is, too."

He made a quick face, as if he had smelled something rancid. "Well... she's something. Not sure if proud is the word, though."

Katniss's phone buzzed with a text.

_(1:13 p.m.) Madge: Gale's in the area doing the estimate on Peeta's neighbor. Be nice to me or I'll send him over there to cockblock you. _

"Oh God, it's quarter after one!" she said, jumping up from her chair. She had only meant to take a thirty minute lunch, but had been talking with him for almost ninety minutes. "I've gotta get back out there."

"Okay," he said. "Me too, I guess. No rush though. I uh, well, I like talking to you."

"Thank you," she said. No one had ever given her the impression that she was anything less than a pain in the ass to talk to. "I like talking to you."

They stole quick smiling glances at each other before looking elsewhere and pretending to be so cool about it.

"I gotta..." Katniss said, pointing outside.

"Yeah, me too..." Peeta said, pointing at the wiring he had been stringing along the walls and ceiling.

"Okay... I'll see you in a bit?" she asked, and smiled when Peeta nodded. She stepped outside, and walked back to the far perimeter of the fence. She was about to tackle a new section of the yard, which meant first searching for animal and bug nests. She put on her gloves and goggles, and slowly started to step through the overgrowth, searching for signs of life or the remnants of it.

So far, Peeta's yard had not shown much life. She had found a small abandoned bird's nest between two gaping slats in the fence, many ant hills spider webs, and a papery fragment that looked like it had come from a hornet's nest. That was something she'd have to watch out for - this area was known for once having an infestation of a type of common European hornets - casually named tracker jackers. She had not been stung by of those before, and really did not want to start today.

After half an hour, she declared the area clear - no animals, no nests, no dangerous bugs. She moved towards the fence and began using the machete to separate the vines from the slats of the fence. It was slow but careful work - she preferred to make a few quick cuts and unravel the vines from around the slats, instead of chopping them all and pulling the vines off, which risked spreading more of the kudzu into the soil and damaging what was left of the fence. This technique took a little longer, but the results lasted longer and ended up saving money for the client.

It took an hour to clear the kudzu vines from the section of the fence, and another half hour or so to bundle them into small coils which could be easily moved and tossed. As usual, a fine yellow powder sprinkled along her arms where the kudzu's pollen had burst open as it was being cut and pulled. Sweat cut through it, carving patterns along her skin. As Peeta peeked through the window for what must have been the hundredth time that afternoon, he noticed the lines and thought she looked like a beautiful sketch come to life.

She took the vine bundles to her truck, two looped on each arm. On her last trip, she cut her eyes towards the house on the off chance that Peeta might be walking by, and there he was - standing in front of the mirror, his hands on the glass. She raised her eyebrows and smiled, surprised that he was watching her. He flushed and waved, and quickly turned and left.

_Was he watching me,_ she thought.

_Does she know I was watching her, _he thought. _And could she have been watching me?_

He smiled at the thought, his mind jumping with giddy possibilities. In fact, he had just about the biggest smile he had ever spread across his face when he heard her scream.

It was a brief but painful scream, and had it been coherent there would have been several recognizable curse words in it. But it was definitely from Katniss. It took him two, maybe three seconds to reach her but that felt like too long to him. When he reached her, she was sitting on the ground holding her neck, gritting her teeth and trying to will away the tears gathering in her eyes.

"What happened? Are you hurt? Are you okay? What can I do?" he panicked.

"Stung," she said, her jaw clenched in pain.

"Let's get you inside, I have a first aid kit," he said. She tried to stand up on her own, but fiery pain was radiating through her head and the entire left side of her body. He could sense she was struggling, and leaned down to scoop her up in his arms. She started to protest, but the pain took over and she couldn't speak.

In a matter of seconds, he brought her into the kitchen and sat her on the plywood serving as a temporary countertop in the kitchen. "Okay, where did you get stung? Was it only on your neck?"

She nodded and held up two fingers with her free hand. "Two stings," she rasped.

"Are you allergic? Do you need an ambulance?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not allergic. Just hurts." And it really did. She wanted to smack herself, but she was in enough pain already. Katniss had been so distracted by seeing Peeta in the window that she hadn't followed her predetermined path back to the yard, and stepped a few feet into a section that had not been cleared yet. She must have disturbed something, because next thing she knew, it felt like two arrows had entered her neck in quick succession - one on the side, and the other on the juncture where her neck met her shoulder. The stings began to swell immediately, and throbbing pain seared through her body.

"I'm going to grab the first aid kit and make an ice compress. Then we'll get the stinger out." He rushed into the living room - or at least what would one day become the living room - and grabbed a small red box and a spare T-shirt. He rushed back in and opened his portable cooler, putting as much ice as he could fit in his hand inside the T-shirt, then tied it into a knot to seal it. When he looked back up at her, he almost dropped the ice. At least it wasn't a sledgehammer.

She had carefully, painfully unzipped her coveralls to her waist and was easing the left side down. Her tank top was orange today - no bright orange like a construction worker, but soft like a sunset. He never realized it before, but it was his favorite color.

He set the ice and first aid kit down on the counter next to her. Taking a deep breath and trying to keep his voice in control, he reached up to the edges of the coveralls and whispered, "Let me help."

It was much easier getting that cumbersome thing off with his help, but she couldn't help but be embarrassed. Hadn't she told Madge that she was never going to take her coveralls off in front of a client again? She was sweaty, and smelly, and now injured, swollen and probably crying. _Talk about a huge turn-off. _

She was exposed to him, and vulnerable, and absolutely beautiful. He gently wrapped his fingers around her palm and pulled her hand away to inspect the stings. They were red and swollen and very angry looking - not like any big bite he'd ever seen. He looked at each grape-sized wound while tracing circles in her palm with his thumb to calm her down. "There's no stinger," he said.

She nodded, her face tight and wincing. "Hornets. They don't leave stingers. Just venom and a lot of pain."

"Are you sure you don't need a doctor? I can drive you," he said.

She shook her head. "It'll get better. I just need some ointment and ice."

"I can help with that," he smiled. Despite the pain, she smiled too.

He rummaged through his kit and found a half-empty tube of antibiotic ointment. Thankfully it had not expired yet. That would have been embarrassing. He thought about giving her the tube for a second, but immediately dismissed the idea.

_That wouldn't be very helpful._

He squeezed a droplet of the gel on to his index finger, and gently traced the edge of the first sting.

_This is better. I'm being very helpful. _

Her skin was hot and hard beneath his fingers, and he was so afraid to hurt her that he only used the lightest touch on her. He concentrated so hard on the task, he failed to notice her breathing start to even out and her muscles relaxing.

He surrounded the first sting with the ointment and ran his finger lightly over the swelling bump, then continued running his finger slowly down her neck along her vein and down to her collarbone.

_I like being helpful. I like her. _

Another squeeze of medicine on his finger, and he salved the other sting nestled in the crook of her neck. He spread the ointment along the wound, and down the slope towards her shoulder. He could see freckles on her collarbone, and wondered what they tasted like.

"The ice, now," she whispered, entranced by the movement of his fingers.

Peeta picked up the damp bundle of cotton and ice and lightly placed it on her neck, covering both stings with a blast of cold pressure that made her take a sharp breath in and close her eyes. From where she was sitting, she was just above eye level with him. He watched a single drop of melted ice pool through the T-shirt and slide on her skin, following the paths of sweat through the dirt and pollen on her skin. It slowly rolled down her neck, pausing a moment at the dip in her collarbone, then down her skin, made faster and faster by her rising chest and heavy breathing until it disappeared beneath the neckline of that damned orange tank top.

He wanted to chase it.

Her scent hit him all of a sudden, as if he was just now taking a breath. She was earth and sun and dirt and all green things. She was cotton sheets and spring water. She smelled like something natural and wild and real.

He looked back up to the ice compress to find another drop to chase, and realized her face was there, _right there_, just a couple inches from his mouth to hers, and the distance seemed so little and her body felt so warm, and she was looking at him with heavy lidded eyes and it would be a crime not to close that distance right now, a complete waste if he didn't inch forward and capture her top lip between his.

He leaned forward, not just his face but his entire body moving in to her space with arms reaching and jaws lifting and hands pressing down - "OUCH!"

_Oh no._

In his determination to be even closer to her, he had accidentally pressed down on the ice pack, causing another wave of pain to rush through her body. Despite her blood rushing and hormones going haywire, it was really hard to concentrate on being so turned on when your neck also really fucking hurt.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He winced. She pulled her top lip between her teeth, and he thought about his missed opportunity with that particular feature of hers.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It just... hurts. It hurts anyway. You didn't do it."

"What can I do?" he asked.

She sighed and looked down, not really wanting to say it. "I think I just need to go home and lie down with an ice pack and a couple of Tylenol. It'll be fine, it just needs to work the swelling down."

"Can I drive you home?" he asked, ever hopeful.

"No, no. I'll be fine." She hated being seen as weak, and even though she felt pretty weak right now, she really just needed to leave. She was in pain and embarrassed and frustrated and turned on and _OH MY GOD, GET OUT OF HERE, EVERDEEN._

"Seriously, I want to make sure you get home safe," he pleaded.

"I'll be fine, I promise." She eased herself off the counter, and he immediately put his hand around her waist to steady her. His hand felt at home on her body. She didn't want him to stop touching her, not yet.

"At least let me help you to your truck," he said.

She nodded, concentrating on the warmth of his hand at her waist and not the burning in her neck and arm. "Okay... I'll allow it."

He turned and smiled at her. "You'll allow it?"

She nodded, and her head fell slightly to the side until her temple rested lightly on his shoulder, and he wasn't sure if they walked back to her truck or if he just floated the entire way.

Once Katniss was in and the seatbelt adjusted to avoid hitting the stings, she turned the truck on and rolled down the window. "Thank you. I'll be back tomorrow, I promise."

"Only if you feel up to it. I don't want you to hurt yourself. This yard isn't going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere." _Never, ever._

He hoped she could sense what he was trying to say, and she looked at him for several moments, studying his eyes.

"Okay," she said, and he hoped it meant more.

"Will you call me when you get home, so I know you got home safe?"

She rolled her eyes but she still smiled. "I'll be fine."

"Please. I'm just going to worry until I hear from you. If you call me when you get home, you'll be putting me out of my misery."

She fought back a bigger smile. "Well, I can't leave you in misery."

He grinned broadly, and her heart melted and exploded all at the same time. "Thank you. Please drive safe."

She nodded and pulled away, not sure if she should drive slow to see him a little longer, or rush off before she did something foolish. She drove carefully, watching him through her rearview mirror as he stood in the street and watched her drive away. He stayed there until her truck turned the corner and was out of sight, then stayed a bit longer until he was sure he could no longer hear her engine.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed. _Home already?_

_(4:13 p.m.) Haymitch: My cable's out, you've got no power, and the game's on in an hour. Pick me up, we're going to The Hob._

Might as well. If anything was going to help him get his mind of Katniss, this was his best shot.

_(4:14 p.m.) Peeta: Be there in 20 min._

He took the world's fastest shower and checked his phone the second he turned the water off, just in case he had missed a call from Katniss. No luck. He wasn't sure where she lived now - was she still in the Seam? Somewhere close by? He really had no idea when she'd get home.

He pulled on his favorite Red Sox T-shirt for tonight's game and a worn-out pair of blue jeans that were fading fast along the knees. He laced on some sneakers and headed out.

Ten minutes later, Peeta and his uncle Haymitch were seated at the bar, listening to analysts dissect the lineup and give their opinion on what was needed to pull the Red Sox out of their current slump. Haymitch drank a double whiskey while calling the announcers "a bunch of idiots", and Peeta checked his phone every few seconds.

"Unless you're expecting Ellsbury to call you and ask you to personally pick him up at Yankee Stadium and drive him away, you need to calm down with that phone," Haymitch said.

Peeta put the phone in his pocket. "I'm expecting a call."

"Checking it every two seconds isn't gonna make that call come any faster. It's just gonna piss me off."

He rolled his eyes at his uncle, but kept the phone in his pocket.

One run and half an inning later, he felt it vibrate against his thigh. He quickly pulled the phone out and saw Katniss's name. He smiled, and wanted to jump up and down on top of the bar, but that would probably take too long.

"Hello? Katniss?"

"Peeta?"

"Hey! Are you okay? Are you home?"

"Who's Katniss?," Haymitch asked. Peeta shushed him.

"I'm fine. I'm lying down with a very large bag of frozen peas on my neck. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call when you had company."

"It's fine, it's just my uncle. We're watching the game. Did you take any Tylenol or anything?"

He could her the little giggle and the smile in her voice. "I did. Thank you for asking. And thank you for taking care of me today."

"Katniss?" Haymitch asked. "Is she the landscaper? Isn't she the gay one?"

Peeta almost dropped the phone, and he prayed that his signal had dropped before Katniss could have overheard Haymitch. He dared to peek - nope. Strong signal, and silence on the other end.

"Katniss, I..."

"I... I've gotta go now. Need to rest up, you know. I'll talk to you later."

"Wait, Katniss, let me..."

She hung up.

He groaned in frustration and looked at Haymitch with deadly intent. _Is murder_ always _illegal?_, he wondered.

"What? What did I do?" Haymitch asked. "Get me a refill. I'm gonna go piss."

* * *

_I'm fnurfnur on tumblr. Trust me, hornet stings REALLY freaking hurt. _


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi everyone! Sorry this took a few days longer to post. A combination of chronic migraines and writer's block stopped me in my tracks. Big thanks to wollaston, sunfishdunes, fairmellarky and jennagill for your guidance and advice and awesomeness. Come find me on tumblr - I'm fnurfnur._

* * *

_(5:35 p.m.) Peeta: Are you at home? _

_(5:36 p.m.) Finnick: Just got here. What's up?_

_(5:36 p.m.) Peeta: I'm coming over there to punch you in the dick._

_(5:37 p.m.) Finnick: What did I do now?_

_(5:38 p.m.) Peeta: You told Haymitch that you think Katniss is gay. I was just on the phone with her and he blurted it out, she heard it, and then hung up. I tried calling her back but she let it go to voicemail._

_(5:39 p.m.) Finnick: Why am I getting a dick punch when Haymitch is the one with the big mouth?_

_(5:39 p.m.) Peeta: Because I'm gonna think of something worse for him. And because this wouldn't have happened if you had kept your mouth shut._

_(5:40 p.m.) Finnick: We only talk about your lack of a personal life because we care._

_(5:40 p.m.) Peeta: Seriously, I'll be there in five minutes._

_(5:41 p.m.) Finnick: Oh, I'm not home. It's not safe there. Some asshole says he's gonna come over and punch me in the dick. _

Peeta closed his text message and tried calling Katniss's phone again. And again.

"_Hi, this is Katniss. Leave me a message and I'll call you back."_

"Katniss, it's Peeta again. Look, I just, I wanted to just tell you how sorry I am about my uncle, who is a complete asshole and doesn't know what he's talking about. Also, he's probably senile, I might put him in a home after this. And did I mention he's drunk? Anyway. I'm sorry. I hope you're okay and that you don't hate me. If I can get you anything, or bring you anything, or just tell you again how incredibly sorry I am for being related to my uncle Haymitch, well, just call or text or... anything. Okay. I hope you feel better soon and get some rest. I'll, um, I'll see you tomorrow."

He checked his phone throughout the night, hoping to see a text or call or _something_ from her. His phone stayed silent.

He didn't sleep well that night.

Eventually, the sun started to rise and he gave up any attempt at sleeping. He made a pot of coffee and started a kettle for tea as well. He was hoping Katniss would accept some tea, but he knew he'd also need the extra caffeine himself. Today he'd hopefully have the wiring not only finished but turned on as well, and would soon be able to say goodbye to the noisy generator. But he'd need to stay sharp if he didn't want to electrocute himself. More importantly, he'd need to be at his best to make things right with Katniss.

She was usually there before 7:30. By 7:25, he had a cup of tea prepared for her. The previous day she had picked a packet of Earl Grey, and he noted that she took two sugars with it. She had noted that he preferred his tea without any sweetener or cream.

At 7:30 exactly, he heard a loud engine pull up to his curb. _Hmm_, he thought. _Her engine sounds different. I wonder if it needs tuning. I should learn how to do that._

The doorbell rang. _Since when does she need to ring the doorbell?_

Peeta rushed to the front door with her tea in his hand, and pulled open the door. "Katniss, he- "

_You're not Katniss._

It definitely wasn't Katniss.

Standing at his front door was a tall, dark-haired, muscular man with a jaw that could probably cut a tree in half. He wore a tool belt filled with clippers, a small pickaxe and a can of spray paint, just as Katniss had worn. In his left hand, he carried a clipboard with lots of scribbled notes on it and a small mark-up of Peeta's yard. But all Peeta could notice was the Everthorne Landscaping T-shirt he wore.

"Mr. Mellark? Good morning, sir. I'm Gale, from Everthorne Landscaping. Katniss is feeling a bit under the weather today, so I'm here to pick up where she left off."

Peeta's heart sank, right down through his body and slamming through the floor. He probably would have heard it crash, if he hadn't gone involuntarily deaf the second this large man in front of him said "Gale."

_This is Gale. This is her partner. This is her tall, attractive partner who looks like he could pick me up and break me in half._

Peeta wasn't exactly a weakling. In fact, he was an accomplished wrestler in high school and college, and worked out regularly to keep himself fit. Doing home renovations all day certainly didn't hurt his physique, either. But Peeta was pretty sure this man could break him, if only because Peeta wouldn't have the heart in him to put up a fight.

"Is, um. Is Katniss okay?" he asked quietly.

Gale studied him for a split-second before giving a polite smile. "She'll be fine. Just hurting a lot still from the injury yesterday, and she figured a day or two of rest would prevent any further damage."

Peeta nodded slowly, trying to focus on the man in front of him. "Okay. Okay. Good. Oh, sorry - yes, I am Mr. Mellark. Peeta - please, call me Peeta. It's nice to meet you, Gale. Katniss has told me a lot about you."

_Sort of._

Gale smiled, and shook Peeta's hand. "She's told me a lot about you, too."

At this point, Peeta wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"She told me all about this house and how you're renovating it. It sounds like a great project. And it's on a beautiful piece of property."

"Oh. Thank you," Peeta said. "Well, it will be, once Katniss... and you... are done with it."

Gale nodded, and held up his clipboard. "I've got all of her project notes here, so I'll just pick up where she left off - right after I find and contain that hornets nest. I'll just get started - let me know if you have any questions."

_Is Katniss mad at me? Is she coming back? Is she in pain? Does she think I think she's gay? Does she hate my guts? Does she like me? Is she single? Is her neck okay? What is she wearing today? Can you ask her to call me?_

"No, I don't think I'll have any questions. I'll just stand back so you can get to it," Peeta said.

Gale gave a quick nod in affirmation and stepped back to his own truck, a large red diesel full-size with "Everthorne Landscaping" on the side, just like Katniss's green truck had. Peeta missed that green truck.

Feeling defeated, Peeta walked back to the kitchen and poured Katniss's tea down the sink. After rinsing out the mug, he fished his phone out of his pocket and typed out a quick text.

_(7:35 a.m.) Peeta: Sorry to hear you're not feeling well. Let me know if I can do anything. Lunch isn't going to be the same today._

She didn't respond, and the morning felt much slower than usual. He finished placing the wiring, but found his fingers clumsier than usual. He tried to ignore the very silent phone in his pocket, but it felt like a lead anchor dragging him down as the day went on. He tried to focus, but he still shocked himself three times connecting and testing the wires. By the end of a very long morning, his nerves were shot and his head hurt. He decided a long lunch break and perhaps a different task for the afternoon was in order.

Peeta grabbed a bottle of water from his cooler and sat on his front step to clear his head. It was a beautiful sunny day, not too hot with a brilliant blue sky. If he had the time or the right frame of mind, he might have tried to grab his sketchpad and draw some of the detail work he looked forward to preserving, or perhaps some images from his neighborhood. But that wasn't going to happen today. He was behind schedule for the wiring, and downright cranky from the day's events.

After several minutes of introspection and self-pity, he heard Gale's voice coming up from around the side of the house. He emerged from the yard, clippers in one hand and a cell phone in the other. Peeta tried not to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help but see Gale's big smile and lovestruck eyes, obviously meant for whoever was on the other end of that call.

He wondered if it was Katniss.

_Forget it, Mellark,_ he thought. _She obviously wants nothing to do with you. Gale is probably her boyfriend, and you're lucky they're still willing to do the landscaping. Even if she comes back, she's not going to want to spend any time with you. The most you can do is try to save the professional relationship, and try to fix things so at least she doesn't hate your guts._

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to force himself be at peace with this.

_It's just not gonna happen. Time to move on._

Gale finished his phone call and put his clippers in his truck. Peeta figured it was probably his lunch time, and he might as well start making things right by extending some hospitality.

"Hey, Gale!" he called out, standing up from the concrete step and walking towards the red truck.

"Yes, sir?" Gale answered.

Peeta winced at the formality. "Please, just Peeta. Just wanted to invite you in for lunch, if you didn't already have plans. I've become so used to having lunch with Katniss, the house seems a bit too quiet now."

Gale narrowed his eyes for a split second, and studied Peeta again before nodding. "Okay. Thanks, man. Actually, I'd love to see the inside of this place, see what kind of work you're doing. If you don't mind talking shop, that is."

Peeta grinned. "Not at all. Most people just want to know if it's haunted."

"Be there in a minute, just gonna secure the tools."

"Come on in - kitchen's off to the right from the front hall." Peeta headed back into the house and forced a friendly smile on his face. _I can make the most of this. He seems like a good guy. _

His lunch today was some of the goodies Annie had made and sent over with an apologetic Finnick, who wore a cup just in case. There was enough food for an army, and he had hoped to share it with Katniss today. Maybe Gale would appreciate a brownie.

"So, what did this place look like before the demo?"

Peeta jumped at the sound of Gale's voice. "Dude... I mean, I didn't even hear you come in!"

Gale smiled, a mixture of pride and apology on his face. "Can't help it. I've been hunting for years - I had to learn pretty quickly how to walk quietly, or I'd scare away every animal in the forest."

"What do you hunt?"

"I don't do it so much anymore. Don't need to, thankfully. When I was a kid though and times were tough, we'd pretty much hunt any game we could get. Rabbits, squirrels - deer if we got lucky."

"We?" Peeta asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Me and Catnip... I mean, Katniss."

"Catnip? That's... that's cute." Peeta hoped he sounded somewhat sincere, even if it felt as if his heart just vomited.

Gale looked away for a moment, his smile faltering a bit. "Do me a favor? Don't tell her I told you that nickname. She'd probably shoot me."

Peeta forced a laugh. "I won't."

_I might. _

"So, let me show you around."

He started showing the kitchen, and described its pre-demolition state to Gale. They walked through the downstairs and checked out every room. Gale seemed to really appreciate the original features of the house that Peeta had wanted to restore, like the fireplace mantel, detailed door mouldings, and Craftsman-style windows. Upstairs, Peeta told him about his plan to patch the floors instead of replacing them, expanding the master bathroom and extending the built-in bookshelves.

"So, are you in the business?" Gale asked as they made their way back downstairs.

"Construction? No, this is just a really expensive hobby. My dad taught me all this stuff, and I did construction and restorations in high school and college. I work freelance in graphic design, so I was able to save up then clear my schedule for a few months to focus on the house. Renovating a house of my own is kind of something I always wanted to do."

"Hmm," Gale nodded. "I don't blame you. That's something I'd love to do, too. My fiancée and I are actually looking for a house, and I tried to convince her that we should take on a project house. She's not a fan of the idea, though."

Peeta stopped mid-step and turned to look at Gale. "Your... fiancée?"

"Yeah, you probably talked to her when you first called our number. Madge. She runs the business side while Catnip and I do the jobs."

It was as if hundreds of pounds of weight had suddenly been lifted from Peeta's shoulders, and he felt lighter than a feather. "You're... you're not with Katniss? I mean, like, you're not _with_ Katniss?"

"Oh, no!" Gale laughed. "No, no. No, she's my best friend and my business partner, and practically family. But... no."

They entered the kitchen and sat at the table. Gale started working on his lunch, but Peeta was too distracted to eat.

_This has suddenly become the best day ever._

"I just thought..." Peeta trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

"No worries, man," Gale said, waving his hand in dismissal. "You're not the first to think it. We got asked that a lot in high school, since we were spent so much time together. We even thought about trying to date, but really, it would be like kissing a cousin or something."

Peeta couldn't have hidden his smile now if his life depended on it. He wanted to ask Gale everything about Katniss, and hopefully discover a way for her to forgive him. "How did you two meet?"

Gale wiped his mouth with a paper napkin before speaking. "Our dads worked together, and brought us along on jobs when we were kids. I was twelve, she was ten. I told her girls can't do this kind of work, and she kicked me in the shin." He reached down and lifted the hem of his pants, pointing to a light brown moon-shaped scar on his leg. "Still have the scar."

The memory of Katniss showing her scar flashed through Peeta's mind. "You two do have a lot in common. She showed me a scar on her leg the first day she was here."

"That weed whacker one? Yeah, she's proud of that one. She'll probably have a scar from those hornets, too."

Peeta remembered the angry welts on her skin, and how he had to keep his hands steady holding the ice to them. He remembered the way that one drop of water trailed down...down... then shook his head to try and stop the rush of blood to his crotch. "I feel bad about that. She was really hurting."

Gale shrugged. "Trust me, she's been through worse. I don't think she was expecting it to hurt the next day, but they usually do. She must have really been hurting to call in sick, though."

_Uh oh_. "Oh?"

"She never admits that she's sick or hurting because she thinks it makes her seem weak. That's the worst, in her mind. She was on the phone with Madge for a bit last night, so maybe she convinced her to rest it. I doubt it, though. She's stubborn."

Peeta kept his eyes down, the edge of his own paper napkin suddenly fascinating. "What, um. What did she tell you about yesterday?"

"Just that she accidentally disturbed some hornets and got stung. She said you had some first-aid stuff that she used, and then she went home." He looked up from his sandwich and watched an array of emotions flash over Peeta's face.

"Okay," Peeta said quickly, nodding furiously. "Yup, that's it."

Gale narrowed his eyes and stared at him. "Is there something else I should know?"

"Um, no. I mean, no, there's not." Peeta started tearing his napkin into little pieces. "I asked her to call me when she got home, so that I knew she got home safely."

"Uh huh," Gale said slowly, his tone significantly more suspicious.

"Gale, can I... Can I ask you a question about Katniss?"

"You can ask. Whether or not I'll answer depends on the question."

Peeta snuck a glance up at Gale, then looked back down again. "I think Katniss is great. I mean, obviously she does a great job here. She's a fantastic landscaper... and person. A special person. To me. I guess I was just wondering if she was seeing anyone."

Gale leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, watching the nervous man in front of him. He didn't answer for several seconds, which felt like hours to Peeta.

Finally, Gale cracked a small smile. "No, man. She's single."

Peeta smiled back, and felt a rush of heat flood his face. "That's... good to know."

"I wouldn't hit on her if I were you, though." Gale went back to eating his lunch.

"Why not?" Peeta asked, sitting up a bit taller in his chair and feeling just a bit indignant.

"Because she hates that stuff," Gale said. "She's not impressed by pick-up lines or smooth talk or any of that. In fact, it kind of pisses her off."

"Actually," Peeta said with a nervous laugh, "I've seen that in action. My friend Finnick dropped by one day when she was here. He tried to hit on her, but she wanted nothing to do with him. It was pretty fantastic to watch, actually."

"Let me guess, your friend isn't used to being shot down."

"Not at all. But he really needed to have his ego knocked down a few pegs. And then..." Peeta stopped himself. "Um, well. Like I said, I thought you two were a couple."

Gale shrugged with a small smile. "It happens."

_If I want his advice, I'm gonna have to tell him. He seems like a good guy. This can't be the first time someone heard his name and wondered what his gender was. He'll think this is all a funny story... right?_

"Yeah, it's funny," Peeta continued carefully, tensing his body involuntarily as if to prepare for a collision. "She called you her partner, and well... actually. At first, Finnick and I didn't know if you were a man or woman."

Gale rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Apparently, I was born during a hurricane. My folks thought it would be fitting to name me 'Gale'. I don't think they realized how many telemarketers would call me 'Miss Hawthorne'."

Peeta gave a nervous laugh. "Well, and Finnick heard that, and assumed that could be the only reason that she wouldn't fall for his schtick."

"What, if she was dating someone or if she was gay?" Gale asked.

"If she was gay. Actually, both of those."

"I see," Gale said, scratching his jaw and looking off to one side, deep in thought.

"And, you know, it didn't matter to me," Peeta continued. "Well, actually it did a little, but because I like her, not because I'd have a problem with it. But it's nice to know now. That I have a chance, I mean. Maybe."

"Maybe," Gale said with less enthusiasm than Peeta wanted to hear.

"Actually, I've got a bit of a problem," Peeta said, ripping up the last of his napkin. "Maybe you could give me advice on how to fix something. With Katniss."

"Maybe," Gale repeated.

Peeta took a deep breath and proceeded with caution. "Well, you know when she was stung, I asked her to call me when she got home, so that I would know she got home safely. When she called, I was with my Uncle Haymitch. He's...well, he's a bit of a character. He can be a jerk, really. He heard that I was on the phone with Katniss, and asked if she was gay. Very loudly."

"Wait, why does your uncle think that?" Gale asked.

"Finnick told him. And they both like to give me a hard time."

"Nice company you keep." Gale wasn't smiling anymore.

"Yeah, I'm aware. So Katniss definitely heard him, and she got off the phone pretty quick. And she hasn't answered any of my calls or texts since."

"Uh huh. Let me make sure I have this straight." Gale leaned back in his chair again and leveled Peeta with a very stern look. "This Finnick guy hit on my best friend, then assumed she was gay because she wasn't into him. Then, he goes around talking about it to your family and they, what? Talk about her like she's a joke?"

"No!" Peeta said, then reconsidered his answer. "I mean - they weren't trying to disrespect her. They were trying to tease me."

Gale raised his eyebrows. "So it's a joke to you, too?"

"No!" Peeta raised his hands in surrender. "Absolutely not. Believe me, I wanted to beat the shit out of them. I want to make this right with Katniss."

"I think I understand why she called out today, Mr. Mellark."

Peeta's jaw dropped slightly. "Peeta, please. Gale, I just want to fix this with her."

"Good luck with that." Gale sighed. "Look, it doesn't seem like you're the one did something wrong - other than hang out with assholes. But Catnip holds grudges. If she's mad, she's gonna be mad for a while."

"A while? What's the definition of 'a while', here?" Peeta asked, apprehensive.

Gale patted his scarred leg before standing up. "I'm not entirely sure she's forgiven me for telling her that girls can't do this work. Thanks for having me in for lunch. I'm gonna head back out."

"Wait," Peeta called out. "Any advice or ideas on what I can do?"

"Yeah," Gale shouted over his shoulder as he walked out. "Don't take any more phone calls with your uncle in the room."

* * *

Come chat with me on tumblr (fnurfnur). Sorry Katniss wasn't in this chapter, but I promise I'll make up for it in the next chapter ;)


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks again for all of the support of this story! Every follow, favorite, like and comment makes me squeal with joy like some kind of happy farm animal. As promised, Katniss is back in this chapter and I made it extra long to make up for the short previous chapter. Hopefully this one was worth the wait. Come find me on tumblr, I'm fnurfnur._

* * *

Katniss did not sleep well that night, and not just because she couldn't stop looking at her phone.

She had reread Peeta's messages several times over the past 24 hours. Often, she pulled up the keyboard to reply but found that words escaped her. So instead she just reread his messages. Again.

Madge and Gale wouldn't let her stay silent. When she didn't respond to their texts at first, Gale sent her an ultimatum.

_(5:49 p.m.) Gale: Respond to one of us or we're coming over. We have a spare key, you know._

She gritted her teeth and tapped out a quick "_I'm fine!"_ to the both of them. Less than ten seconds later, her phone rang.

"Madge, I said I'm fine. My shoulder feels much better," Katniss lied. It actually felt completely stiff, but she knew she could have worked through it if she had tried. But she couldn't.

"Forget your shoulder. Something's going on and you're not telling me. And Gale came back from meeting your boyfriend client and would only tell me 'I may have to kick somebody's ass', but won't tell me anything else."

Katniss's chest clenched, and she wasn't sure what hurt more - hearing him being called her 'boyfriend' or the idea that Gale was now involved in her embarrassing love life.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"What happened? Was he an asshole? Is he a serial killer? Oh no, is he married?" Madge shrieked.

"No, no," Katniss said. "At least, as far as I know."

She heard Madge take a deep breath and exhale into the receiver. "Then _why_ did you call in sick for the first time since you had the stomach flu in tenth grade? And why does Gale want to kick someone's ass?" she asked, her tone a bit softer now.

"I..," Katniss stammered. _I can't do this._ "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"I don't care! Somebody needs to tell me something or I swear, I will call this guy and ask him myself," she threatened.

Katniss was silent for a moment, weighing Madge's threat. "You would not. He's a paying client, and you're the most professional person ever."

Madge made a "hmpf" noise, something Katniss had only heard before when she was mad at Gale. "That's right. I'm so professional that I could call him, get the information out of him, and probably sign him up for a five-year maintenance contract. Wanna test me?"

_She really is that good_, Katniss thought. "I hate you so much."

"No you don't," Madge said. "Would it be easier to tell me if I came over?"

Katniss tried to picture having to look into Madge's face, seeing the pity and sympathy in her eyes and having to deal with a night of "poor, lonely, possibly sexually flexible Katniss" comments.

"No."

There was a noise at Katniss's front door. It sounded like a key turning in the deadbolt. "Too bad. I'm here."

"I want that key back," Katniss said, ending the call on her cell phone as soon as Madge opened the door. "A key to my house is a privilege, not a right."

"I have a right to support and help my friend, whether she wants it or not. Just be happy Gale didn't want to come over with me," Madge said, dropping her purse on the sofa before sitting next to it.

Katniss tucked her feet underneath her and leaned back next to Madge. "Believe me, I am happy about that. Although I'm afraid to find out what happened today."

"Seriously," Madge said, fixing her with an scornful look, "what happened?"

_There is no avoiding this. Madge will understand your pain. Or you will kick her out of your house._

"Fine, she said begrudgingly. "Okay, so two days ago... ugh." She grabbed a throw pillow and hugged in front of her, as some sort of imaginary protection. "I got stung by that hornet. And he came out and helped me inside. Actually, he picked me up and carried me inside." Katniss played with the ends of her hair to avoid blushing at the memory.

"Don't tell me that offended you," Madge asked, eyebrows raised.

"No... it was nice. Really nice, actually." Too late, she was blushing. "Then when he was helping me with the first aid stuff, we... well, I thought we had a moment. I think we almost kissed, but it didn't happen. My neck hurt too much."

"I still don't hear a problem."

Katniss sighed loudly. "I'm _getting_ to that. Anyway, so I drove home to ice my shoulder, and he wanted me to call him when I got home to let him know that I was okay. So I go home, and I get my ice, and it takes me a while to work up the nerve to call him."

"Okay..." Madge circled her hand, motioning for her to keep going.

"And I call him and he's asking how I am, and... ugh. Madge. Don't make me do this."

Madge stuck her index finger in Katniss's face as a threat. "I'll call him right now, I swear."

Katniss covered her face in her hands in embarrassment and took a deep breath. _Best to just say it at once and get it over with, and hopefully never speak of it again._

"There was some guy with him and I heard him ask Peeta if I was gay."

She had expected some sort of sympathetic noise, or perhaps even a laugh at her expense from Madge. But there was nothing. After a few seconds of silence, Katniss peeked at Madge through her fingers.

"Seriously?" Madge asked, her eyebrows scrunched together.

"Seriously!"

"How do you even know this other guy, who may I point out was _not_ Peeta, was referring to you? Maybe he thought someone else was on the phone!"

"He specifically said, 'Is that the landscaper, the gay one?' Who else could that mean?" Katniss asked, getting angry.

"Gale?" Madge asked with a smirk.

Katniss smacked her arm. "Shut up."

Madge shrugged. "So what? So some guy who you've never met and don't know the name of asked Peeta if you were gay. What does that matter?"

"It _means_ obviously he's been talking about me to someone and he told them I am gay!"

"You don't know that," Madge said, rolling her eyes.

"I've been flirting with him all this time, or at least I thought I had, but apparently I am so bad at it that he thinks I'm interested in a completely different gender."

"Don't be so dramatic. Have you been talking about Gale?"

"I mean... a little," Katniss said, confused. "When he asked about our business."

Madge leaned forward. "Did you tell him, 'Oh by the way, Gale is my totally non-sexual male best friend and business partner?'"

"No, but..."

"Did you know that the day we first met and had lunch together, you first mentioned your friend Gale. And I thought Gale was a girl, because who names a boy 'Gale'?"

Katniss stifled a laugh, because she truly did not want to give Madge the satisfaction right now. "That's your fiance you're talking about."

"Yes, and I love him with all my heart," Madge said, holding a hand to her chest. "But I will not let his parents name our future children."

Katniss paused for a moment to consider this. "Even if he thought Gale was a woman, why would that automatically make me gay?"

"I don't know, maybe because you work in a male-dominated industry and you have a partner who sounds like a girl. Or maybe he has some fetish for lesbians in coveralls and was hoping you fit the bill."

Now it was Katniss's turn to roll her eyes. "Thank you. You're such a huge help right now."

"Katniss," Madge said, grabbing her friend's face in her hands, "who gives a shit if he wondered about your sexuality - if he was even the one who wondered about it? All you know is that some anonymous asshole who was within shouting distance of him asked if you were gay. Have you talked to Peeta since then?"

"No," Katniss said, pulling out of Madge's grasp. "He's called and texted me, but I haven't responded."

"What did he say? You know what, forget it. Just give me your phone."

Madge grabbed it from Katniss's coffee table and began looking through her texts. After a few minutes of reading, she looked back up at Katniss. "Seriously? He's so hot for you. Why is this even an issue?"

Katniss grabbed her phone back. "Because I thought he liked me and I thought I was doing a decent job of being somewhat attractive, but..."

"But now you're paranoid that he thinks you're gay and will never want to go out with you. So your solution is to hide at home and let Gale speak on your behalf?"

Katniss grimaced. "Not forever. I'm sure Gale was fine today."

"Do you remember how well that went the time Darius MacMillan wanted to ask you to prom and Gale scared him away? And that was just because Glimmer Phillips told everyone that Darius gave her crabs?" Madge asked.

"Gale was concerned about my health," Katniss mumbled, avoiding Madge's eyes.

"Gale made it so that Darius was afraid to ever look at you again. And Darius didn't even have crabs."

Katniss's eyes grew wide. "How do you know?"

"Because I overheard Glimmer in the bathroom one day telling Clove that it was Cato, and that she never even went past second base with Darius."

"I...I've completely forgotten why we're talking about these people."

Madge waved her hand dismissively. "Forget it. My point is, this guy totally likes you. You like him. If you think he's not entirely clear about your attraction to him, perhaps you should go back to his house and _make it clear_."

"Are you telling me to take the top of my coveralls off again?"

"Yes." The sly little shit-eating smirk returned. "The bottoms, too."

Katniss scowled. "Get out."

The smirk turned into a full-blown grin. "Are you working tomorrow or are you going to stay here and pout again?"

"If I go to work tomorrow, will you get out?" Katniss asked, pointing to the front door.

"I'll tell Gale his schedule just opened up for tomorrow," Madge said, standing up and gathering her purse. "By the way, I love you. And I _do_ mean that in a gay way."

Katniss stuck her hand out. "Give me your key."

Madge took it out of her pocket and stuffed it down her bra. "Come and get it, hot stuff."

"Out!"

Her friend gave a lascivious wink as she shut the front door behind her. As soon as she was alone again, Katniss grabbed her phone and texted Gale.

_(6:13 p.m.) Katniss: What did you do today?_

_(6:13 p.m.) Gale: Your job._

_(6:14 p.m.) Katniss: You know what I mean._

_(6:15 p.m.) Gale: I didn't do anything. He was the one who wanted to talk about you so much._

_(6:15 p.m.) Katniss: Do I want to know?_

_(6:16 p.m.) Gale: Katniss, I'm your best friend. You know you could have come out of the closet to me._

_(6:16 p.m.) Katniss: I hope you run over your own foot with the brush hog._

_(6:17 p.m.) Gale: He feels bad. He likes you. I told him that what happened was fucked up. That's the extent of my involvement._

_(6:18 p.m.) Katniss: You sure there's nothing else I need to know before going back there tomorrow?_

_(6:18 p.m.) Gale: Yeah, I found and disposed the hornet's nest. You're welcome._

Katniss put her phone away. After she read Peeta's texts again, of course.

That night, the only thing Peeta and Katniss could think about in their respective beds was what would happen tomorrow. It kept them up, but they each eventually fell asleep.

The problem was, Peeta had not slept well for several nights and his body was sorely in need of rest. When his mind finally relaxed and he drifted off, he did something he had not done since college.

He overslept.

A lot.

For a man who had spent the overwhelming majority of his life waking up at 5:00 a.m., he had never needed to use an alarm. By now his body just somehow knew when to wake up, even after his days of rising early for the bakery were over.

But today, his internal alarm clock turned itself off. When Peeta opened his eyes and saw the sun up in the sky and streaming through his window, he panicked. When he checked his phone and saw that the time was 9:47 a.m., he threw the device on his mattress and cursed.

His front door was still locked, so why hadn't he heard the doorbell ring when Gale - or hopefully Katniss - came by?

_Maybe they didn't,_ he realized as he scrambled out of bed. _Maybe they decided to drop me as a client. There's probably a letter coming saying "Thanks for the opportunity, but we hate you so much that we don't even want to take your money anymore."_

Peeta was so upset that as he walked to the window, he almost didn't look at the window overlooking the backyard on his way to the bathroom.

_Almost_.

Katniss was there, winding cut vines around her hand and elbow to bundle them up. She stood about 200 feet from the house, her back turned to him. Which gave him the perfect opportunity to stare at her with uncontained awe and delight.

_Good Gravy God. Those aren't coveralls._

Indeed, Katniss wore something different today. She tried to convince herself that it wasn't because of what Madge said, but because the neckline of the coveralls and most of her T-shirts chafed against the stings on her neck. If she wanted to keep anything from rubbing against her neck, then _obviously_ her only option was to wear a tank top that kept fabric several inches from the wounds at all times. Of course, she was in too much pain yesterday - physical and mental, of course - to do laundry, so the only available pants were a pair of skinny cargo pants that Prim had accidentally left during her last visit. It was just a coincidence they happened to make her butt look really good.

Katniss told herself this to keep from feeling ridiculous, but it didn't work. She was used to working with long sleeves and baggier pants to help protect her from scratches and cuts and allow for ease of movement. She felt exposed, and that was even before Peeta had seen her. Which, by itself, was weird.

When she arrived that morning, Katniss had considered not saying hello to Peeta and just going back to the yard to get started. She also considered staying in her truck all day, or even turning around and going back home.

As she was sitting behind the wheel, pulled up to her usual spot in front of Peeta's house, she heard a loud truck driving by and a quick honk of a horn. She looked up and saw Gale driving by on his way to Delly's house to get back to work on her property. He waved and gave her a smirk, so she waved and gave him a scowl.

A minute later, her phone buzzed.

_(7:26 a.m.) Gale: I'm just next door if you need me to kick some ass._

It was meant to be reassuring, but it just made her mad.

_I am Katniss. Fucking. Everdeen. I can wield a chainsaw and fell a 100-foot tree, and I'm here sitting in my truck afraid of what some guy may or may not think? I'm so afraid that Gale thinks he needs to rescue me? That's bullshit._

She sat up straight and took a deep breath, steeling her face into a mixture of resolve and what she hoped was indifference. Because she didn't want Peeta - or perhaps she should call him Mr. Mellark again - to know how much she cared about what he thought. About _him_.

That determination lasted exactly 14 seconds, which is the length of time it took her to exit her truck and walk to his front door. She hadn't rung the bell since her first day there, so it was habit to just open it. This morning, it was locked.

His truck was in the driveway, but the house was silent. By this time in the morning, usually he'd have the radio playing and the downstairs windows open, and the smell of coffee would be in the air. But none of that was evident today.

She rang the doorbell, but it made no noise. _He must not have finished wiring yesterday,_ she thought. Her hand lifted up to knock on the door, but stopped.

_He could be out. He could be sleeping. He could be out sleeping with some perfect, obviously heterosexual woman._

Katniss turned on her heel and returned to her truck to grab her tools. She didn't need him to be aware of her presence before she got started, and she certainly didn't plan on waiting for him to show up. After all, she had a job to do. And after she got into a rhythm, that's the only thing she concentrated on for the rest of the morning.

Peeta, however, was incredibly distracted.

_She's here. In the flesh. The incredibly hot, exposed flesh._

After his initial shock at seeing her wore off, he became very aware that all of his blood and attention was now barrelling towards his dick. It wasn't just the fact that she was wearing a tank top - a dark green one today, cut low in the front so he could just make out the valley between her breasts from this distance - or that her pants seemed to hug every curve of her ass and he had never wanted to be a piece of clothing so much in his life. It was that she was _back_, working in his yard again, as if nothing had happened. He was worried about having a conversation with her again, but for a moment, he could imagine that Haymitch had never opened his fat mouth. That she had stayed on the phone with him. That perhaps the next day, they could have picked up where they left off and had that kiss. That he could have found out where that drop of water had slid down to...

_Shit_.

This was not a mere case of morning wood. This was a full-blown, throbbing, raging hard-on that had Katniss Everdeen's name written all over it. And in his very distracted state, he imagined it being written on his dick with her tongue.

There was really no way he could go out to his backyard and talk to Katniss in this state. This had to be dealt with.

She turned around and he immediately ducked down, hoping she didn't see him acting like an pubescent pervert in his bedroom. He backed away from the window quietly and made his way to the bathroom.

Peeta closed the door and locked it - just in case - and turned the shower on. It was times like this that he really cursed the fact that he had not yet replaced the water heater, so heating the water to an acceptable temperature took a few minutes. He used the time well, alternating between imagining he could have done with Katniss when she was sitting on the countertop and thinking about the Red Sox's current slump to keep him from blowing his load before he even got in the water.

As soon as the water was warm enough, he shed his boxer briefs and jumped in the tub. The warm water felt amazing on his cock, but he struggled to keep his composure as he grabbed the bar of soap and lathered up. He wanted to finish thinking about what could have happened, what should have happened the other day.

Peeta imagined carrying Katniss into his kitchen again, only this time she wasn't cringing in pain with bright red welts on her neck. This time, she was licking her way up his neck and sucking on that sensitive spot behind his ear.

His soapy hands ran across his body in a cursory attempt to actually clean himself, but it wasn't long before they made their way down to his very needy cock. He imagined Katniss sitting on the counter with her legs spread, her ankles wrapping around his back and pulling him against her. Her coveralls would peel off her hot, sweaty body and he would feel every inch of her skin. He'd rip her tank top off of her and press against her to feel her hard nipples against his chest.

A hundred ideas of exactly where on her naked body he would put his hands first flashed through his mind, but he could tell from the pull in his gut and the start of a tingling in his balls that he would not need that many to finish. He imagined her reaching down and grabbing his hard cock, stroking it while tightening her legs to bring him closer. He could practically feel the wet heat coming from her as he imagined the tip teasing, brushing against her folds.

Peeta's hands moved of their own accord now, familiar with their duties. His right hand pulled and caressed his balls while his left stroked over his dick, brushing and curving around the tip at every pass. He tightened his grip, looked down and visualized sinking his cock into Katniss - what it would feel like to grab her hips and pull her on to him, to feel her tight pussy clench around him, soaking wet and swelling against-

An explosion of white hot sensation burst from between his legs across his body, from his eyeballs to his toes. Stars of every color in the universe burst behind his eyelids, and he groaned much louder than he would have if he had any control over his body right now. Much, much louder than if he had remembered that his bedroom windows were open.

Eventually, the euphoria began to fade and Peeta opened his eyes and ran a hand over his face to bring himself back to reality. Before he finished rinsing himself off in the shower, he sent a quick prayer to every god, deity and idol that ever existed that one day, he would find out if the fantasy of a naked, horny, and willing Katniss matched up to reality.

Peeta dried himself and dressed quickly, very aware that not only had he already missed several hours of work time, that he needed to talk to Katniss. Thankfully, he felt a bit more relaxed about it, thanks to his morning shower.

At least, he did until he found himself in the backyard, walking towards her.

_Shit_.

"Katniss?" he called out, hyper-aware of the crack his voice made and the fact that he had imagined her naked only minutes before.

She didn't turn around, not until he was only a few feet from her and called her name again. Her eyes widened quickly in shock before her eyes seemed to cloud over and she pasted on a small, polite smile. "Good morning."

He smiled back, because at least she smiled at him and didn't chop his head off with the machete in her hand. "Hey. I overslept, I'm so sorry I missed you this morning."

She shook her head quickly. "No worries. I rang your doorbell, but nothing happened. I guess it's not hooked up yet."

_I thought I ran the wires to it yesterday... Damnit._

"I'll uh, I'll check that out. Thank you. Um, how are you? How's your neck?"

Katniss shrugged. "It's fine. Swelling's gone down, see?" She craned her head back and it took every bit of willpower in him to _only_ look at her neck and not straight down her top.

"That's good. That's really good. Um, I missed you yesterday."

Her eyes widened, and he wished that he could reach into the air and snatch his words back and hide them in his mouth. Then he realized that he meant what he said, and if he wanted her to realize how attractive and alluring and amazing she was to him, there was no way he could take it back. So he kept his mouth shut and gave her a smile.

"Well, um. My neck and shoulder hurt a lot yesterday. I, uh. I guess I wouldn't have been any good yesterday. Did Gale do a good job?"

"He did. He came in for lunch, too. It was, uh, nice to put a face to the name, though."

Madge's words about Gale and his name rang through her head. "Yup. That's Gale. He's my partner - business partner, I mean."

"Yeah. He's a good guy."

A silence settled between them, so thick her machete would not have made a dent.

Finally, Peeta took a step towards her. "Listen, Katniss... about the other day... on the phone..."

Katniss stiffened her back and put her hand up to stop him. "Don't worry about it. It's fine. Um... I do need to get back to work, though. Gale didn't make as much progress as I would have. I mean, if I had...okay. But I'll talk to you later?" she asked in a frenzied voice, clearly trying to stop this awkward conversation before it even started.

Peeta visibly deflated, so much that even Katniss noticed it. "Okay. Sure. But...will you still have lunch with me?"

His voice was so hopeful and his eyes were so blue and he looked so goddamned good that there was no way she could say no. "Yeah. I'll come in at noon."

A smile broke across his face. "Okay. I'll see you then."

He turned and rushed back to the house, eager to get the doorbell fixed and check the rest of the wiring before she came in. The next couple of hours seemed to fly by, at least they did to him. He knew things weren't back to normal between them, and he wasn't entirely sure what it would take to fix them. But she came to work today, and she didn't openly hate his guts. It was a start.

He was almost done testing the wiring with his multi-meter when she walked in the house. Of course, the very first thing he had checked, re-wired, and re-checked was the doorbell. He wasn't about to make that mistake again. But he left the door wide open for her, and she let herself in to the kitchen with her lunch.

He heard the scrape of a chair against the floor in the kitchen, and felt his stomach jump in anticipation. After switching the multi-meter off, he put it back in his toolbelt and went to join Katniss, trying to keep his cool and not do cartwheels at the very sight of her.

"Hey," she said, looking up from her sandwich with a shy smile.

"Hey. Hi. How, uh, how's it going out there?" he asked.

She nodded, keeping the sandwich up to her face to hide behind it. "Good. Going well. Gale did... adequately."

Peeta smirked. "That's exactly the word I would use." She let out a soft chuckle and took a bite of her lunch. He remembered that he hadn't eaten all day, and was suddenly starving.

He didn't want to leave to get take-out from the deli, so he reheated the last piece of lasagna from Annie's care package, and made a mental note to thank her for sending over so many brownies.

"I have a few brownies here, would you like one?" She looked up as he peeled the aluminum foil from the dish and placed it on the table, and nodded emphatically. _Thank you, Annie. _

There was a weird energy in the air between them. On one hand, they certainly knew each other well enough to avoid small talk and dive right into deep and meaningful conversations about the things that really mattered, like their favorite colors and how they preferred their eggs cooked. However, an unspoken awkwardness was present, and neither of them knew how to fix it. Peeta went over his conversation with Gale, trying to remember any tidbit of information that he could use to spark a conversation.

_The house!_

"I've never given you a tour, have I?" Peeta asked. She shook her head, her mouth full. "Would you like one? After lunch, I mean."

She swallowed and took a quick sip of water before speaking. "Yes, please. I would love that."

Peeta smiled. "Okay, good. I gave Gale a tour yesterday and I realized we've really only spent time in the kitchen."

"Well, I definitely know you worked on the plumbing," she joked, then averted her eyes in embarrassment. _Don't think about him with his clothes off, don't think about him with his clothes off, don't think abo- _

"Yeah, and I'm glad. It's nice to not have to go to the gym to shower," he said, and turned pink in the memory of this morning's encounter. _Don't think about her with her clothes off, don't think abo-_

"Well, I know you've done demo," she said. "That's pretty evident from the holes in the side of your house."

"I finished the wiring today, too. I think. Actually, I thought I finished it yesterday until you told me that the doorbell didn't work. I was, well. I was a bit distracted yesterday."

"Oh," is all she could say, not sure whether to get her hopes up or stay cool.

"Gale's pretty distracting," he joked. She laughed, and it was music to his ears. They finished their food with easy chat and small talk about the upcoming weekend, and as soon as the last bite was finished, Katniss stood up.

"So, show me around," she said, no longer feeling the need to hide her smile.

He smiled back at her, and even felt bold enough to stick out his elbow to her. To his relief and delight, she wrapped a hand around his arm, and he led the way through the home.

Like Gale, Katniss appreciated all of the details about the house that made it so special to Peeta. Of course, he appreciated her enthusiasm much more than her partner's. She saw every room and the things he had done to the entire house - demolition, wiring, and plumbing where necessary. But in certain rooms, she couldn't help but notice that there was more progress than in others.

"You're restoring the original windows?" she asked.

"I am," he said, excited that she noticed. "They're the original Craftsman-style windows, called four-over-one windows. They're pretty specific to this style of architecture, and I just love them. Hopefully each one can be restored so I won't have to replace any outright."

"It looks like you've restored the ones in your bedroom, and the kitchen and dining room downstairs, right?" He nodded. "Why those rooms? Are you working your way up to the bigger ones in the living room?"

He could have said yes, or said that he started downstairs and only worked on the ones in his bedroom on nights he couldn't sleep. But it would be a lie, and he could tell by the change in her face that she had realized the reason.

Those rooms had one thing in common - a window overlooking the backyard.

Her cheeks flushed with pink and she avoided his eyes, and he wasn't sure if it was from happiness or mortification. _One way to find out. _

"I...I like watching you work. I like it when you're here," he said softly.

Her eyes looked up and found his, and she saw that he was now blushing, too. She tried to think of something to say but was at a loss for words. She was never good at saying something, anyway. So she did the first thing that she felt brave enough to do.

It was so fast, he didn't have time to react, but he didn't know what he would have done, anyway. She leaned forward quickly and kissed him on the cheek, then ran downstairs and back outside before his brain could process what had happened.

_She kissed me. With her lips. The ones on her face. They were on my face. They felt really soft. Is she that soft everywhere? Oh, I want to find out._

He eventually realized that he had been standing there for several minutes, and the sound of a chainsaw pulled him out of his reverie. He looked out of the window, and saw Katniss using the tool along the fence in the next new section of the property.

_I guess lunch is over._

Peeta finished the wiring that afternoon, but really he just wandered around the house in a bit of a daze, trying to do small tasks and continually getting distracted.

He pulled the multi-meter out and checked a few more outlets. _Katniss kissed me._

He swept the downstairs again to get rid of remaining dust and debris that had dislodged when he laid the plumbing and wiring. _Katniss kissed me._

He checked drywall, making sure that none of the new plumbing had leaked or caused any moisture issues behind the walls. _Katniss kissed me._

He double-, no, triple-checked the windows he had already restored. _Katniss, that woman out there, kissed me. _

He started working on the next window, in the room that would be his office. _Katniss, who probably is aware that I am checking her out right now, kissed me. _

He went downstairs to grab a bottle of water. _Katniss...is standing in the hall._

"Hey," he said, rushing down the stairs. "What's u-"

"I like watching you work, too. And I like being here, too. I like spending time with you," she blurted out.

He forgot what he was going to say.

"And...look. I don't know who that was on the phone the other day-"

"It was my uncle Haymitch, and he doesn't know what the hell he was talking about," he said.

She stood up a little taller, and swallowed. "Look, Peeta. I don't care if someone thinks I'm gay, or not gay, or whatever they want to think. I've kind of been a tomboy all my life, and doing this job...well, it's probably not the first time someone has thought it. But I don't want _you_ to think that I'm gay."

He shook his head, his jaw slack. "I don't."

She took a deep breath and released it slowly before speaking again. "Because if you think I'm gay, then it means I've been doing a really bad job of flirting with you."

His smile made her stomach flip. Her smile made him walk closer to her.

"I want to make dinner for you," he said.

"You don't have a kitchen."

"I want to take you out to dinner. That's what I meant. And when I get a kitchen, then I want to make dinner for you."

He had never seen her smile so much. He wanted to give her that smile every day, every minute.

"When?" she asked.

"What are you doing right now?"

"Standing in your house."

"You should stop doing that and come to dinner with me instead."

She laughed again. "Now? It's only... just past 4:30," she said, glancing at her watch. "And I'm all dirty."

"I like it," he admitted. "Besides, I'm all dirty too."

"I like it," she said. They took another step towards each other, now only a couple of feet apart.

"I like you," he said, his heart hammering through his shirt.

_DING DONG. _

Their hearts stopped.

"Your doorbell works," she joked.

"I really don't care who it is," he said. "The only person I want to talk to right now is already standing in front of me."

_DING DONG. _

"You should get that."

"If it's a salesman, can I borrow your machete?" he said, trying and failing to hide the aggravation in his voice. She stepped back and he moved to the front door, ready to give whoever was there a lecture about bad timing. He pulled it open quickly, then briefly considered slamming it shut right away.

"Hey, Peeta," Gale said. "Is Katniss here? I checked in the back and didn't... oh. Hey, Katniss." He nodded at her, raising one eyebrow.

"What? Hi," she said.

Gale looked at her, then at Peeta, then back at her. "You, uh. You got a sec? I was hoping to use one of your rigs, but if I'm _interrupting_ something..."

"No," she said sternly, brushing past Peeta and grabbing Gale's arm before dragging him towards her truck.

"Nice outfit, Catnip. Those pit stains make you look extra hot."

"Shut up. Take whatever you need out of my truck. Take the truck. Take the keys. Just get out of here," she hissed.

"Jeez, were you guys about to fuck or something?" he teased.

She raised her fist up between them. "I swear to God, I will dick punch you so hard you will never have children."

"You wouldn't do that to Madge."

"Try me."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. The chain on my saw broke and I forgot to put a replacement one in my truck. Do you have one?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why are you never prepared?"

He grinned. "Because it's more fun to come and cockblock you."

Katniss pushed him aside and opened one of the toolboxes in her truck. "18-inch, right? I have the Husqvarna ones."

"No, I brought the 20-inch today."

"I don't have any 20-inch."

"Why not?"

"Because my saw is 18-inches. And it's not my job to keep extra stock for you. Besides, the 20-inch is a Stihl, and it's too hard to control."

"Maybe for you. Does Peeta know about your problem with extra inches?"

She reached back into her truck and pulled out her chainsaw. "You can take my rig and leave, or you can lose a leg. What's your choice?"

He laughed, and backed away. "Neither. I'll finish what I can and grab a replacement on the way home. Then I'm going to tell Madge what I caught you doing. With a _customer_," he said, in mock horror.

"You didn't catch me doing anything."

"I'm pretty sure he was about to give you a tip. And the rest of it, too."

Anger flashed in her eyes and she pulled the start on her chainsaw, revving the engine.

Gale laughed again and rushed back down the street towards Delly's house. Once she made sure he was gone, she turned the engine of the chainsaw off. Turning back towards the house, she saw Peeta standing at the front door.

_I really hope that seeing me threaten someone with a chainsaw wasn't enough to make him not want to go on a date with me. _

He smiled at her, and her stomach flipped again.

They walked towards each other and met in the middle of the front yard.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "He needed a chain, but I didn't have the type he needed."

"I hate it when that happens," he said, and she smiled again just for him.

"So...um," she mumbled, suddenly very aware of exactly how dirty, sweaty and smelly she was.

"Can I take you out to dinner?" he asked.

"I really need a shower," she said.

"I have a shower," he said.

"And a change of clothes."

"I have clothes."

"In my size?"

"Okay, you have me there."

She bit her lip as she grinned, and he was mesmerized.

"I can come back. Tonight," she said, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"That's the best idea I've ever heard in my life," he said.

"Okay," she nodded. "I'm gonna head out, get cleaned up...and then I will come back."

His heart was on fire.

"It's a date."


	7. Chapter 7

Hi everyone! Sorry this chapter took longer than I had hoped - I hope it's worth the wait. Let me know what you think and come visit me on tumblr, I'm fnurfnur. I talk about this story a lot there, often in the form of "HA HA I can't wait for you guys to hear this dick joke."

Thanks to jennagill, fairmellarky, wollaston/alonglineofbread, and sunfishdunes for reading, fixing, suggesting, correcting, supporting, hand-holding.

* * *

Moments after she left, Peeta's phone rang. He checked the name on the caller ID, and sent the call to voicemail.

_(4:52 p.m.) Finnick: Did you just send my call to voicemail? Rude._

_(4:53 p.m.) Peeta: Busy. I'll call later._

_(4:53 p.m.) Finnick: Your busted house will be there tomorrow. Come over and watch the draft tonight, we're grilling out._

_(4:54 p.m.) Peeta: I have a date with Katniss. That means I don't want to see or hear from you or Haymitch tonight._

_(4:55 p.m.) Finnick: WHOA when did this happen?_

_(4:55 p.m.) Peeta: I'll tell you tomorrow. I've got to get ready, go away._

Finnick smiled and put his phone in his pocket. "All right," he announced to Haymitch and Annie. "Peeta's got a date with Katniss tonight. Twenty bucks says he gets to first base, but that's it. Who's in?"

Annie and Haymitch both fished out their wallets.

Katniss' after-work route was usually a 28-minute drive from Peeta's house to hers. Sometimes, she stopped and gassed up her truck, or met up with Gale and Madge at The Hob, a local bar.

That day, she made the drive in 21 minutes. Her phone rang during the trip but she ignored it, not wanting to grope for it out of the console or get distracted from rushing home.

As soon as she pulled into her driveway, the phone rang again. She grabbed it and rushed out of the truck, answering the call while unlocking her front door.

"Is it true that you and Peeta were totally about to bone today before Gale came over?" Madge snickered.

"No," Katniss said emphatically.

"So what did happen?"

"He asked me out. On a date."

"_I TOLD YOU HE LIKED YOU_," Madge shouted into the phone. "When is the date?"

"I'm sorry, what? I've gone deaf. Someone just screamed into my ear," Katniss said, now holding the phone a few inches away.

"Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"It's tonight. Actually, I'm just gonna shower and drive back."

"The hell you are. I'll be right there."

"No, I don't need - " Katniss started to plead, but Madge hung up.

Katniss considered calling back, but knew that telling Madge not to come wouldn't make a difference. Besides, Madge probably would be able to help. Now that Katniss wasn't rushing home and had stopped to think about what was to come tonight, she was starting to get nervous.

And she didn't really have time for that.

Katniss was in her shower, rinsing shampoo out of her hair when she heard a familiar voice shout from the other room. "Don't forget to shave your legs!"

"What?" Katniss shouted back.

The bathroom door opened and Madge stuck her head in. "I said don't forget to shave your legs. Above the knee and the bikini area, too."

"I'm not going over there in a bathing suit. Besides, if I don't shave my legs, it'll keep me from going too far."

Madge rolled her eyes as she kneeled down and began to rummage through the cabinet under the sink. "I remember that you told me that before my first date with Gale. News flash - it happened anyway. Shave your legs so you don't feel self-conscious about it when he's ripping your clothes off."

Katniss wiped the water from her eyes and stuck her head past the shower curtain to look at her friend. "It's a first date. What kind of woman do you take me for?"

Madge pulled some makeup and lotion bottles out from the cabinet and stood up. "The kind who is going on a date with a nice guy she's really attracted to, and shouldn't feel bad about doing anything physical tonight if she wants to, because she _really_ needs to get laid."

Katniss grabbed her washcloth and flung it at Madge, who didn't see it coming and shrieked as the wet towel hit her in the face. She moved the bottles and items to one arm, and used her free hand to throw it back into the shower. "Hurry up and wash your crusty ass," she said, closing the bathroom door as she left.

When Katniss was finished with her shower and walked back into her bedroom wearing a robe and a towel wrapped around her head, she found Madge laying out shoes and accessories. On Katniss's bed was a dress. A short, low cut one with a red floral pattern and very skinny straps.

"Nope."

"Yes. You're wearing this. With these shoes and... I dunno, maybe these earrings," Madge said, examining the gold studs she had picked from the top of the dresser.

"I'm not wearing your sex dress."

"My what?" Madge turned and asked.

"Your sex dress. Gale told me every time you wear that dress, it's because you want to have sex. And as much as I wish I didn't know that, I do."

Madge smiled as she placed a pair of ballet flats next to the dress. "Aww, he notices the little things."

Katniss made a disgusted face. "God only know what you've done in that dress."

"Only because I was calling his name out when I did it," Madge teased.

"I'm definitely not wearing it now. It's got cooties." Katniss sat on the bed and picked up the dress gingerly with one finger, as if it would bite her.

"Calm down, it came back from the dry cleaners yesterday. And you're thinner than me, so it'll be a little bit longer than you."

"You're full of shit."

"The longer you argue with me, the longer it will be before you can go back to his house."

Katniss tensed her jaw and tried to stare down Madge, but she knew it wouldn't work. "Fine. I will try it on. But if it's too short or I don't like how it looks, I'm not wearing it."

Madge smiled and nodded. "Deal. I promise that if it doesn't look amazing on you, I won't make you wear it. Here, put these on underneath."

Katniss looked at the lacy little scraps of fabric Madge handed her. "I forgot I even had these. It's been years since I wore them."

"No kidding. It's about time you did."

Just about thirty minutes later, Katniss texted Peeta.

_(6:02 p.m.) Katniss: I'm on my way._

_(6:03 p.m.) Peeta: I can't wait. Drive safe. _

Peeta hurried to finish everything before she arrived. He just barely got back in the house with what he had just picked up before he heard her truck drive up.

The doorbell worked again. She was too nervous to let herself in.

He blew out his match and rushed to the door. Since Katniss had driven off earlier, he'd been rushing around and trying to get so many things coordinated to surprise her. The same questions kept running through his mind. _Would she like it? Is it too much? Is it not enough? _

And then she was there, standing in front of his door, looking as radiant as the sun, and his mind fell silent. He was in awe.

As his brain began to work again, he realized that in all of the time they had spent together, he had only seen her in pants, only seen her hair tied back in a braid. If he had thought she looked breathtaking smeared with dirt and hidden in coveralls, then right now she looked... Well. There were truly no words to describe it, but he knew he never wanted to take his eyes off of her.

Her hair was down, a curtain of onyx silk down her back and across strong, smooth shoulders, an expanse of beautiful olive skin interrupted only by two very delicate red straps. Those lucky straps held up a floral dress in shades of red and orange that curved around her body, undulating slowly with the soft breeze in the air. The dress ended atop toned thighs, and two long, sinewy legs supported her - one with a thin, pink scar.

Peeta came to his senses and realized it had probably been several seconds since he opened the door, and he hadn't said a word. "Hi."

"Hi," Katniss said. If there had been a long silence, she didn't notice it. She admired the dark blue buttondown shirt he wore, how it was just a little snug around his chest and arms, and how good it looked pushed up to the top of his forearms. He smelled good, like his usual scent but with something else mixed in. Something fresh, and something... like some kind of spice?

He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that she found endearing. "You look... I don't know. I feel like 'beautiful' isn't a strong enough word."

She blushed and smiled, and this time he could see the flush of color sink down her neck and across her chest. "Thank you," she said. "You look... yeah. I don't know how to say it either. But I like it."

He held his hand out to her and stood to the side of the door. "Will you come in?"

She nodded and grasped his hand, marveling that it felt softer than she imagined it would. Anyone who worked with their hands as he did generally had rough, thick skin covering their palms and fingers from building up calluses and scars. She could feel the thickened skin of hard-working hands, but his hand enveloped hers and seemed to cradle her fingers, as if her own weren't covered in calluses and rough spots. As if her hand was a delicate, precious thing to be treasured.

"Where should we go eat?" she asked, walking through the door to stand right in front of him.

It was his turn to blush now, and she noticed it on the tips of his ears. "Well, I have a story about that..." he said, leading her to his living room, which was dark but seemed to have something glowing in it.

Once she walked into the room, she gasped. He had brought in boxes and the sawhorse table and all sorts of things to serve as stands, and all were covered with lit candles. The room glowed, and so did she.

"I realized that what I really should have done is be a gentleman and pick you up at your house, not ask you to drive back here," he said, a nervous timbre to his voice. "So I figured that since I had already done that, I might as well try to make the place a little nicer, so that it was worth it to come back."

She wanted to tell him that it was worth it anyway, even just to see the way he looked at her when he opened the door. Her mouth opened to speak, but something caught the corner of her eye.

"What is all that food?" she asked, walking further into the room. The surfaces of the sawhorse table that weren't covered in candles held an incredible variety of food and takeout containers. There was pizza and pasta, some tiki masala, containers of rice and stir-fried vegetables with beef, a dish of enchiladas and a paper bag filled with some kind of good-smelling bread. There was enough to feed an army, but tonight it would only be the two of them.

"I couldn't make you dinner, but I could bring some to you. The only problem is, I didn't know what you'd like. So I got a little bit of everything I could get my hands on." She turned back to look at him, and saw the bouquet of wildflowers he now held in his hand. "For you," he said with a soft smile.

For the second time in a day, Peeta Mellark had left her speechless. She wasn't much of a talker to begin with, but he seemed to have an ability to surprise her in the most delightful way. She wanted to thank him, and tell him how special this was, and that it was so far beyond what anyone had ever done for her and that she loved it. But words escaped her, so she just looked at him.

He became nervous at her silence and lowered the flowers to his side. "It's too much, isn't it? I'm sorry. We can go out, wherever you want. I overthought this, I wanted to -"

Katniss wanted him to stop talking like that, to stop apologizing for being himself. So she kissed him.

Peeta froze, just for a split second out of shock, before dropping the flowers and melting into her. She tasted like mint and everything fresh. He tasted like cinnamon and warmth, the kind that started in her belly and spread out to her fingertips. She wanted to chase it with him.

He couldn't believe his luck. Even if she stopped kissing him at that moment, he sincerely thought he could die of happiness.

But she didn't stop.

Her hands found their way to his chest, and she pulled on the front of his shirt to bring him closer. She _needed_ him to be closer. He responded by wrapping his arms around her sides and pulling her to him.

His lips parted just before hers did, and he sucked on her bottom lip just slightly as she traced his upper lip with her tongue. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself up on her toes before letting out a sound Peeta would never, ever forget.

It was the softest of moans, not heard so much as felt, creating vibrations down his spine and to his toes before traveling back to his cock.

Everything that happened after that, after the sweetest of noises reverberated through them and created a fire, they knew there was no sense in pretending anymore, no more reason to be shy. He reached down and grabbed her hips to him, and she tightened her hold around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. She pressed her entire body to him and he felt every inch of her. He felt skin and muscle and softness and legs and tongue and breasts and warmth, her very core on fire just for him.

She broke the kiss to take a breath, and he took advantage of the break to pay attention to her neck. She felt secure in his arms, and relaxed her grip around his neck to run her fingers through his hair. The sensation on his scalp was intoxicating, and he nuzzled his mouth against her neck as he felt her move to him underneath his palms.

_Fuck dinner, _they thought.

"Can I..." he started to say, breathless.

"Upstairs," she answered, moving her head to place her lips on the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

It was a struggle to keep his eyes open as he carried her upstairs, because she just felt so damn good that his senses went into overdrive and his body was flooded, but somehow he made it up the staircase without injury. As soon as he set foot in his bedroom, her legs unwound from his waist and hit the floor, their bodies finding a rhythm against each other. Her arms and hands remained entangled in him, and he pulled her closer still with one hand on the back of her neck, the other trailing up her thigh and brushing against the hem of the dress.

Her hands reluctantly lowered themselves from his hair to busy themselves with the buttons of his shirt. She was thankful that her fingers somehow remembered how to work buttons, because she was so overwhelmed with sensation and heat and _him_ that she probably wouldn't have been able to remember her name, if asked.

He remembered it, though. It was all he could do to keep from screaming it at the top of his lungs like a victory cry, until her lips found his again and he decided his mouth and tongue could be used towards better things.

As his fingers slid higher and stroked the perfect curve where her thigh met her ass, she moaned into his mouth and slid her hands under his now open shirt. Her hands found every detail and committed them to memory. A firm stomach, shuddering against her with each breath. A soft expanse of hair along his chest, so nice to curl her fingers into. Broad, strong shoulders which led to even stronger arms that reached down and picked her up again, carrying her to his bed.

He placed her gently on the bed before crawling on top of her, lifting his torso up to stop and look at her. He wanted to memorize exactly what Katniss looked like in his bed, eyes dark with need for him. She wanted to remember every detail of him, looking down on her as if she was a birthday present come early.

He pulled his shirt off and she smiled.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

"You're amazing," she told him.

"You look so good in this dress," he said.

"It's not even mine," she admitted.

"I will buy you one. But first, I want to take this off."

She nodded and grinned, biting her lower lip to suppress it because she wasn't used to being this happy, or feeling this good. He reached his hand to her face and ran his thumb across her lip until she let it go, pressing her lips around his finger instead. She touched the tip of his thumb with her tongue, then released it from her mouth as she raised her hips up to him.

He ran his hands down the length of her body, mapping every curve and rise and valley until he reached the hem of the dress. He hooked his thumbs under the edge and ran his hands back up her hips, the tips of his fingers brushing against the curve of her ass and something very lacy. His cock twitched up in excitement when he realized he was about to see what it was.

The dress rose up her body with his hands, up past black lace-covered hips and a flat stomach. She put her hips down and sat up, helping him pull the dress off of her. As the silk fabric passed over her head and was tossed aside, her hair lifted from the dress and fell back down, enveloping Peeta as she pressed her forehead to his. He slid his hands to cup her face and kissed her, wanting to convey every emotion he was feeling without ruining it with something as simple as words.

Katniss had just learned what his skin felt like against hers, and she craved more. He wanted the same, and his mouth found its way back to the perfect spot where her jaw and neck met. She inhaled sharply as his tongue pressed against a nerve that sent heat racing down her spine, and she lowered herself back on the mattress, taking him with her.

Peeta focused his attention on the dip in her collarbone as she hitched one leg around him and returned her hands to his hair. He ran his hand from her hip to the back of her knee and gripped her to him, anchoring her body to his. She moaned again, and it sent vibrations from her body to his, from her chest to his lips, her hips to his. Her toes curled against the waistband of his jeans, and he thrust his hips against her in response.

Despite the frenzy they felt just a few minutes ago, they now felt no need to rush. The entire night lay ahead of them, and he wanted to make her body sing, over and over. He placed an arm behind her head to steady himself and keep her close. His other arm left the soft spot behind her knee and went to her chest, fingers ghosting over the lace of her bra before she arched her back to fill his hand. One hand full, he reached her other breast with his mouth to place slow kisses and long strokes of his tongue along the slope and rise of her nipple. Her other leg bent and rose, and she traced the muscles in his thighs with the arch of her foot.

His mouth traveled to her other breast and his hand moved to the side, just enough to slip his thumb underneath the lace and against her skin. The softness under his fingers was interrupted by something smooth, square and definitely not her. She froze for a moment, then giggled against him.

"What is this?" he teased, pulling the plastic-wrapped condom from her bra.

Her body shook beneath his as she laughed, and he smiled at her in adoration.

"My friend Madge helped me get ready tonight. Before I left, she slipped that to me and that was the only place I had to put it. She really, _really_ wanted this date to go well."

He put the condom on the mattress next to them, and returned his hand to her body. "I'm gonna write her one hell of a thank you note."

He returned his mouth's attention to her chest, and she reached down past the blonde curls that she couldn't get enough of to his neck, his back. All muscle and strength, with freckles along his shoulders. She drew her hands down the column of his spine to his waist, and slipped her fingertips underneath his jeans.

"You're overdressed," she said.

"We both are, really."

"This is a problem that must be fixed."

"Immediately."

He rolled to his side and took her with him, and she used the momentum to push him on his back and straddle his hips. After giving him one more passionate kiss, she sat up and scooted down to his thighs, allowing her access to his jeans.

Katniss had never felt so bold or so sure of herself. There was no hesitation in her movements or her mind, just swift fingers unbuttoning, unzipping. He raised his hips as she had for him, and she pushed his jeans down to his thighs, then twisted around to pull them off his legs.

"Better?" he asked.

"Getting there," she said.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her back up his thighs until she sat directly in front of his cock. She could feel his body's response to hers and she very much wanted him to feel the same. So as he raised his hands up over her waist to her back and the clasp of her bra, she pushed her hips against his until wet heat met firm length. He felt greedy, and his cock struggled to push past his boxers to meet her.

The clasp on her back fell aside, as did the rest of her bra.

"You're beautiful," he said.

"Show me," she said.

He sat up and her legs wound themselves back around him, pulling them together in an attempt to join them. His palms slid up her thighs, meeting a very thin band of fabric on her hips. He slid his hands underneath and grabbed her ass, and she gasped into his mouth. He took advantage of her delight and flipped them back on the mattress, hovering over her as his heart tried to beat its way through his chest.

His hands moved back to the sides of her hips and pulled back over her thighs, taking her underwear with them. She reached to his waist and pushed his boxers down. Both garments were quickly tossed across the room.

He pushed himself down her body past her waist, and her chest ached at the loss of heat. He quickly made up for it by sinking his lips and tongue along the inside of her thigh, pulling her legs over his shoulders.

He brushed his fingers against her as his mouth slowly made its way to her center. She was deliciously wet and he smiled against her skin because he knew it was his own doing. She felt his mouth move to her, and cried out in joy.

His lips, his tongue, his fingers. He discovered that each gave her a different sensation, and elicited a different response. Fingers curling inside gave way to soft moans. His lips sucking and teasing along her flesh led to quick breaths. His tongue flattened and moving against her clit made her body alive, until her hips rose to his mouth with every lick.

Lips, tongue, fingers. All three together found a way to make her fall apart, until she called out his name in a fevered pitch and came against his mouth. Her body rippled, shattered, flowed around him and the sight was better than he could have ever dreamed.

As she recovered, her mind and body caught in a sensation somewhere between floating and flying, he kissed his way back up her body. He took his time, enjoying the taste of her skin and sweat and desire. When she had returned to the world of cognizant thought, he had just made it up to her neck, taking extra care to be gentle around her stings.

Katniss wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him close and wondering where the hell this amazing man had come from. She turned and kissed the side of his face as he nuzzled against her ear and reached for the condom.

"Wait," she said. "I need to return the favor."

He smiled at her. "That was not a favor. That was my pleasure. And I'm afraid if your mouth goes anywhere near me right now, I'll last about ten seconds."

She laughed. "You're such a smooth talker." He kissed her gently, sliding his tongue along hers and relishing the feel of her mouth. She took the condom from his hand.

"Let me."

He lifted his body up just enough to give her room to reach down to him, because he still needed to keep her close. She opened the packet and threw the wrapper to the side, then reached her hands down to find him hard and ready for her. First she circled her fingers around his length and slid her hand up and down, feeling the weight and shape of him. She ran her palm down the underside of his cock and felt the thick vein, beating staccato in rhythm with his heart. Her fingers moved back to the head and one hand slid the condom on while the other cupped his balls, getting tighter by the second. She lifted her head to kiss him, then lifted her hips to guide him.

He pressed forward and sank into what could only be described as heaven. He buried his head against her shoulder and whispered her name as both a prayer and a promise. She took a deep breath and exhaled softly against his skin, wondering how this new sensation of him inside her was suddenly as familiar and necessary as her heartbeat.

They took their time. There was no need to rush this feeling, not until the finish was inevitable. Slow thrusts met soft kisses. Her legs hitched around him and her hands clutched his back. He kept his head along her neck and shoulder and she hummed in delight against his ear.

He held out his release as long as possible, certain that his body and mind would never feel as good as it did right then. A part of him was afraid that this night was too good to be true, and if this was just an elaborate fantasy, he was determined to be a part of it as long as possible. But she was under him, over him, surrounding him, and he was overcome by her touch, her movement, her sounds, and her taste.

When his thrusts sped up and became erratic of their own accord, she tightened her body around him and sucked on the spot behind his ear. A tingling and tightening in his pelvis turned into an explosion throughout his body, and he held on to her for dear life. She was his life boat in a storm, his sun on the horizon. As he came down from his high, she caressed him and told him how good he felt in soft whispers against his skin.

His own pleasure ebbed as he realized what had happened. He looked up at her and kissed her deeply before speaking.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

Her brows furrowed. "Why?"

"You just felt so good, I couldn't hold out. But I wanted to make you come again."

She beamed as if he had given her the universe, and kissed his forehead.

"Peeta?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

* * *

One of Peeta's friends just won $20. Find out who in the next chapter. I haven't written smut in almost 2 years (not since Surviving Death) so please let me know if I did okay. I'm fnurfnur on tumblr.


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry this chapter took some time, but everyone be calm - the food and candles are all fine!_

* * *

Peeta would have been perfectly content to stay in bed with Katniss for the rest of his natural life. Unfortunately, Katniss had other ideas.

"Shit!" she whispered, sitting up in bed and knocking Peeta over to his side. "The candles!"

"Hmm?" he asked, still in a bit of a post-orgasmic daze.

She jumped out of the bed and ran out of the room, grabbing her dress and slipping it on over her head as she rushed down the stairs.

He heard her downstairs and realized what she was doing. Dozens of candles left alone to melt in a very flammable room? Probably not the best idea.

He grabbed his boxers and quickly stepped in to them before following her down the stairs. Katniss was in the living room, kneeling down on the floor and checking every box and stand for fire damage.

"I don't think any of them dripped down. We should go ahead and blow them out, so the wax doesn't damage the floor," she said, feeling along the hardwood floor for candle residue.

He grinned and sat down next to her on the floor before pulling her off her knees and into his lap. "Leave 'em. I'll be sanding the floors down anyway, it'll take away any damage. Besides," he said, putting his mouth on her spine and tracing it up with his lips, "We need to eat. Let's stay here."

"Okay," she agreed. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "You don't seem very hungry, though."

He could hear the smile in her voice, and he loved it. "I'm starving," he breathed against her skin.

"We can't let all this food go to waste," she said, biting her lip to control herself.

"Mmm hmm," he said, using his nose to nudge aside her shoulder strap.

"And you don't have a refrigerator." She ran her hands over his forearms up to his hands, threading her fingers through his.

"I need a kitchen first."

"And I don't have any more condoms. Do you?"

That stopped him. He lifted his face up and propped his chin against her shoulder blade, always keeping clear of her stings. "Shit. I don't even think I have an old one in my wallet."

He felt her giggle underneath him. "Then let's eat."

She stood up and reached her hand to him, helping him up.

"Okay," he said, kissing her forehead. "But then I'm going to the store. Because I just realized you're not wearing underwear."

She slipped her arms around his waist. "Deal. Because I just realized you're only wearing underwear."

They ate a bit of everything, and she urged him to eat more. He sensed that wasting food was a terrible sin to her, and it was only when he was able to put the rest in the takeout containers and fit them all in his cooler that she stopped worrying about the food.

While he was trying to figure out how to fit at least four day's worth of food into one small cooler, she searched the living room. Somewhere in that room was her shoes. Maybe. No, those were upstairs. She remembered kicking them off in her bedroom as Peeta had lifted her up and placed her on his bed. The memory sent a dance down her spine, and she grinned. _One of us really needs to go to the store and get more condoms, _she thought.

She thought she had brought a small clutch purse of Madge's in with her, but honestly everything that happened after Peeta opened the door was solely focused on him. If she could find the purse, she could grab it and her shoes and run to the store while Peeta finished putting the food away.

Katniss spotted the small red bag by the living room entrance, where she must have dropped it. Maybe when she was kissing Peeta, or going to kiss Peeta, or when she jumped on him, or when she was going to jump on him...

She opened the bag to check her phone, and found a full strip of condoms that she most definitely did not put there. But then again, she wasn't the one who packed the purse in the first place. On her phone was a text.

_(8:06 p.m.) Madge: Can I get you guys anything? Some snacks? A condom? Let me know. Oh, God love ya!_

"What's that?" Peeta asked, walking up behind her. She showed him the contents of her purse, and the text.

"I'm starting to think a thank you note isn't going to be enough," he said. "She's definitely getting a fruit basket, too."

She hooked a finger in the waistband of his boxers, and pulled him towards the stairs. Then she pulled him right back into the living room so they could blow out the remaining candles.

"Now we can go back upstairs," she told him with a kiss. As would happen many times that evening, a kiss turned into much more.

Neither of them slept that night, but for once it was for very good reasons.

Sunlight was beginning to creep over the horizon when Katniss left his house. He implored her to stay with him, but she pointed out that her current attire wouldn't be the best choice for yardwork.

"Let's play hooky, then," Peeta said, running his hands up and down her back. "Just stay inside with me all day. Clothes are not necessary."

"I don't think that's in the best interest of my client," she smirked, tangling her fingers in his hair for probably the hundredth time.

"It is _definitely_ in the best interest of your client. This is your client's top priority from now on."

"Well, I'm afraid this isn't exactly covered in our scope of work agreement," she said, standing up to slip her shoes on. "It's also not the sort of activity that I want to show up on an invoice, so I need to do some billable work today if I don't want my company to go under." She smirked.

He sat up, the blanket gathering at his bare waist. "You're beautiful when you're responsible."

Katniss blushed and her smile deepened. She walked back to him, placing her hands along his jaw and tipping his head up to hers. "You're handsome when you're full of shit." He beamed, and she pressed her lips to his.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours. Not sure how productive I'll be today, though. Someone kept me up all night."

Peeta lay back down in his bed, clasping his hands behind his head and winking at her. "Somebody liked it."

She winked back and walked down the stairs, calling out one last word before she left.

"Repeatedly."

Peeta tried to fall asleep, even if it was just for an hour or two, but it was hopeless. How could he sleep after the most amazing night? How could he possibly be expected to relax after eleven hours with the girl of his dreams?

_I may never sleep again. But I'm okay with that._

He often had to remind himself that the previous night was not a dream.

_Katniss stayed here last night... Real._

_Katniss and I had sex last night... Real. At least six, maybe seven times._

_Katniss likes me, too... Real. _

His smile could not be contained.

After an hour of tossing and turning, he figured there was no use in staying in bed any longer. There was no way he was going to get any sleep, and if he kept smelling her shampoo on his pillow, he'd be distracted all day. But with Katniss arriving in another hour or so, he was sure to be distracted anyway.

After a quick shower and shave, he pulled on a well-worn dark blue T-shirt and faded jeans with his trusty steel-toed boots, as always. She had told him last night that he looked good in dark blue, and this T-shirt was the only other item he had in that color. He could have worn the buttondown shirt again, but at one point in the evening she had slipped it on. Now he couldn't imagine the shirt on anyone else.

As he brewed coffee and put a kettle of water on the hot plate to boil for her tea, his phone buzzed.

_(7:02 a.m.) Finnick: How did last night go?_

_(7:02 a.m.) Peeta: Very good._

_(7:02 a.m.) Finnick: How good? _

_(7:02 a.m.) Finnick: Good as in she didn't kick you in the nuts, or good as in you scored? _

_(7:03 a.m.) Finnick: Need to know strictly for financial reasons._

_(7:03 a.m.) Peeta: ?_

_(7:03 a.m.) Peeta: ?_

_(7:04 a.m.) Finnick: We may have placed money on the outcome of your date._

_(7:05 a.m.) Peeta: Who bet what?_

_(7:05 a.m.) Finnick: You can't just tell me what happened?_

_(7:08 a.m.) Peeta: I'm waiting._

After several minutes, Finnick sent over several texts explaining each person's exact bet and the parameters they had set. Peeta was pleased to know that the bet was limited to Finnick, Haymitch, and Annie. He would not have put it past Finnick to open it up to his entire office, or put an announcement in the newspaper.

His doorbell rang.

_(7:12 a.m.) Peeta: Gotta go. Will text the winner later._

_(7:13 a.m.) Finnick: ASSHOLE_

He opened the door, broadly grinning. Because why would Katniss ring the bell again? If there was anyone welcome in the house, it was definitely her. "Welcome ba-"

_Not Katniss._ He really needed to stop assuming she was the only one who ever came by.

Standing on the faded concrete slab that would one day hold a wide, inviting front porch was the meanest looking person he had ever seen in his life. Which was saying a lot, considering his uncle Haymitch's standard temperament. She was short with chin-length brown hair that stuck out in different directions. In one hand was a clipboard, the other hand on her hip. She looked at him as if she wanted to bury an ax in his face.

_How could I have pissed anyone off yet? It's barely 7 a.m._

"Mr. Mallard?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"Mellark. Yes," he said.

"Yeah," she huffed, pulling her clipboard in front of her to read from it. "I'm Johanna Mason, District 12 Building Code Council. I'm here for your first inspection."

In order to get a building permit, Peeta first needed to go to City Hall and fill out a ridiculous amount of paperwork. One of the papers he signed was an agreement that a city building inspector would periodically check on the progress to ensure that all developments and work were within building code. He had never heard of an inspector coming before six weeks had passed. But he had only lived there less than a month.

"Already?" he asked, confused but trying not to sound rude. "That permit was approved only three weeks ago."

"That's right. Good thing for you I'm so on top of things. Let's get started." She brushed past him before he had a chance to step back and open the door more to allow her in.

"Okay. Come in, I mean." He closed the door behind her and turned. This person was less than five feet within the house, and already furiously scribbling on her clipboard.

"Go on. Tell me what you've done so far." She already seemed impatient.

"Uh, well," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. This inspector had thrown him for a loop - defending his work was not how he had expected to spend his morning. Actually, he had hoped to entice Katniss to spend some more time with him inside. Somehow, that didn't seem feasible anymore.

"Waiting, Mr. Mellard." Her pen never stopped moving.

"Mellark. You can call me Peeta." He smiled, hoping a bit of friendly behavior would help.

"I'm still waiting." Maybe not.

"Okay, well. Um, do you want it step-by-step or room-by-room?"

She flicked her eyes from her clipboard to his face for a moment, then rolled her eyes before concentrating on her paperwork again. "Surprise me."

"Yeah. Okay. Step-by-step then. First, there was the demo..."

Three hours later, he stopped talking. At this point, it was just easier to listen and nod as Johanna asked him repeated questions about how he planned to seal the interior walls, exactly what sort of fasteners he planned to use on each item, and just exactly how deep of a soffit he planned to put on to maintain the roof rake line. He had an answer for every question - the problem was he had been caught off guard from the beginning, and never caught up. If he paused more than one second before answering, she rolled her eyes and answered before he could.

It wasn't until they got to the bedroom that Johanna showed any emotion other than boredom. As soon as she saw the hastily made bed and personal effects, she spun around and stared at him as if he had called her a dirty word. "Are you _living_ here, Mr. Melvin?"

"Mellark. Yes. It's my house, and I'm living here while I work on it."

"This house is not anywhere near code for someone to be living in it."

He was confused. "But... it's a house. It's meant for someone to live in it. I'm bringing it up to code and beyond while I have this building permit, and living in it allows me to do that more efficiently."

"You have exposed wiring, cracked door seals, insufficient insulation and missing drywall, missing siding, and that's only what I've found so far. If I left you stay here and something happens to you as a result of me allowing you to live in this building that's not up to code, the city could be found liable. I could be found liable. Do I look like someone who lets themselves be liable, Mr. Mulvaney?"

He wasn't sure what she wanted him to say, but correcting his name again probably wasn't at the top of the list. "No?" he tried.

"Let's move on, then."

At some point in the morning, Katniss had arrived because he could hear the chainsaw working and caught a glimpse of her now and then when they passed a window facing the backyard. He wondered if she had come in and realized that the building code inspector was here, or had gone directly to the backyard to work. He wasn't allowed to dwell on the thought.

"Electrical code, 404.2 amendment for switch connections," Johanna said, her voice mechanic as if she was reciting from a textbook. "For switches controlling lighting loads supplied by a grounded general purpose branch circuit, the grounded circuit conductor for the controlled lighting circuit shall be provided at the switch location." She pointed to his wiring for the kitchen light switches with her pen, then stared at him for an explanation.

As was her required for her job, Johanna was 100% up to date on every building code and code update in the books. She was not shy about pointing out his mistakes, either. He tried to make sense of what she had just said.

"Wait," he said. "I didn't think that applied to one or two-story residentials."

"You thought wrong. That was changed in 2011 with a late application date of January 1st, 2014. You are half a year behind on your building codes, Mr. Miller."

"Mellark."

"The only exception to this rule currently is if the raceway for the controller covering the switch for the lighting load has a sufficient cross-sectional area to accommodate the extension of a grounded circuit conductor of the lighting circuit to the switch location."

This would have probably made more sense to him if he had had any sleep at all the previous night. He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus.

"This one," she said, pointing again to the switch with her pen, "used to be sufficient. But _you_ added additional wiring." It wasn't a statement so much as an accusation.

"I... the house didn't have any three-pronged outlets. I had to add grounding wire in all of them to change that."

"Then you need to allow for sufficient spacing of the extra wiring. Any idiot in the business could tell you that," she huffed, writing notes on her clipboard.

"Actually, I was in the business..." he tried to interject.

"Let me guess, you watched a lot of shows on HGTV and thought you could just do it all yourself, huh?" she said, speaking over him.

"No!" he said, his voice rising. "I've been doing this since I was a kid. I started in the business as a teenager on building crews. If you check the paperwork on my filing, you'll see that I have an up-to-date contractor's license. The last I checked the code, that spacing change was still in appeal."

She raised an eyebrow at him and stared him down for a moment before returning to her clipboard. A deep breath and drawn-out sigh later, she spoke.

"Mr. Matthews, I'm giving you one week to fix the electrical issue, as well as the following issues on this list." She removed a piece of paper from her clipboard and handed it to him. Five additional issues were listed, each one no small feat.

"Wait, a week? I'm the only one working on this project, can I get more time?"

"I could shut this project down right now, or tell you that you need to find another residence for the week, but you're lucky I'm in a good mood. Stay here for the week and get this fixed. If these items aren't fixed by the time I come back, the building permit will be revoked and you can reapply in 30 days. During that 30 days, you will not be able to use this building as a residence until the building permit has been reissued. Do you have any questions about the terms I have outlined here?" she asked, her eyes back on the paperwork.

He was in shock. "Um... no."

Johanna turned on her heel and walked towards the door. "See you in a week, Mr. Mellarny."

"Mellark," he called out, but the door slammed shut over his voice. He sighed and looked back at the list. He had seven days to replace the seals and frames on the exterior doors, rewire the connections in every room, replace the missing siding, and remove and replace the insulation throughout the house.

If he really busted his ass and worked with no distractions or sleep or breaks for food or the bathroom, he could maybe get it all done in 15 days.

"I don't know if your buddy Finnick is around, but that woman? Definitely a lesbian."

Peeta looked up from the list clenched in his hands. Delly stood just inside his front door with a broad smile that quickly disappeared when she saw the distraught look on his face. "Uh oh, what happened? Was she from the I.R.S. or something?"

He shook his head and held up the list. "City Building Inspector. I've got a huge list of things to fix and seven days to do it. There's just no way I can get it done by then, which means I'll lose the building permit and have to find another place to live for at least a month."

She walked over and put her hand on his shoulder. "Peeta, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help? If you have her number, I can promise to do my very best to fuck her brains out."

He laughed - he couldn't help it. "I don't have her number, but apparently she'll be back in seven days, so feel free to come by then."

Laughing had felt good, and the sheer panic was starting to leave his body. _This is not the end of the world,_ he told himself. _No matter what, there is going to be a solution. I can always sleep at Finnick and Annie's for a month. Maybe some time at Katniss's place, if she's not sick of me. _

"Thanks, Delly. I'm sorry, I didn't even see you come in. How can I help you?"

She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at him. "You sent a mass text to a bunch of people this morning saying to come over and get food. Is there any left? I don't even care what it is, free food is the best food."

He laughed again, remembering the quick text he sent this morning to any local number in his phone. It was the only way he'd be able to make sure none of the food was wasted before it went bad.

"You are actually the first one here, so take whatever you'd like."

She went to the cooler in the kitchen and opened it, letting out a low whistle when she saw everything inside. "Why do you have all this food?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, allowing a small smile through his stress. "It's, uh, leftover from a date last night."

Delly's head popped up. "Ooh! With Katniss?"

He blushed. "Yeah, with Katniss."

She took items out of the cooler to examine them. "And you decided to, what? Woo her with the International House of Takeout Food?"

"Hey," he said, pointing at her. "It worked."

Her mouth opened in an excited smile. "I knew it! I need to thank her, by the way. Gale's almost finished with my property and he's done a great job. I'll tell him to come over and get some food, too."

He nodded. "Please do. I'm still full from all we ate last night."

She waggled her eyebrows. "I bet."

"You're worse than Finnick," he said.

She pointed her own finger at Peeta to correct him. "No, I'm better than Finnick, because I could tell that Katniss was straight. He still owes me wine, by the way."

"I'll remind him."

She thanked him and left, right after asking him to call if there was anything she could do to help with getting the house ready for the next inspection.

_The inspection. One week away. Seven days. 168 hours. Every second counts now._

So why was he finding it hard to get off the staircase?

_Get moving, Peeta._

_Any second now._

The front door opened.

"Bad news?" Katniss sat next to him on the stairs and rested her hand on his knee. Her wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

"I have a week to do three weeks worth of work, or I lose the building permit and have to find somewhere else to stay until it's reinstated."

"Let me see." He held up the list and she took it, looking it over while leaning her head on his shoulder. He rested his lips on her hair and inhaled the scent of grass and sweat and sunlight.

"So, why do you have to do all this in a week?" she asked. He lifted his head and soaked in her big gray eyes. Tiny pieces of grass and green were scattered across her face and hair except for the outline where her safety goggles had been. She was, as always, beautiful.

"Well, because technically the house hasn't been cleared for occupancy, and even though I own it I probably shouldn't be living here yet." He wiped some pieces of grass from her brow, and one fell on to her eyelashes. "Hold on, close your eyes."

She did, and he gently blew on her eyes until the grass was gone. He kissed her forehead, and she smiled and opened her eyes again.

"No, no. What I mean is, why do _you_ have to do all this? You can hire subcontractors for some of the work. Get friends and family to help." She shrugged, and looked down at the floor. "I can help."

The thought truly had not occurred to him. He had always imagined hammering every nail, fitting every piece of wood himself so that one day, he'd be able to tell his grandkids that he built the house all by himself. But really, he was still building it even with the help of others. And now in this situation, it did seem like the best idea.

Still, he paused. It's not that he thought he didn't have anyone who could help him. But asking others to help with _this_... he worried he might be asking people for too much.

"You'd help me?" He asked her gently, noting how her eyes remained down.

"Of course. If you want me to help. I mean, I'm here all the time anyway, but I don't want you getting sick of me."

_As if that were possible_, he thought, and ran his hand along her jaw to lift her face to his. "I am most definitely not sick of you. In fact, I'd really like to spend as much time as possible with you. As long as you're not sick of me."

Her smile filled everything in his vision. "I'm not. And I'm glad."

Peeta pressed his lips to hers softly, more in gratitude than passion. They had time for passion later.

"And I can get help from lots of other people," she continued. "And I bet your friends will help, too. You just need to tell us what to do, and we'll be there for you."

He smiled again. He seemed to do that a lot lately around her, and it felt good. "You're pretty amazing, you know?"

"Don't change the subject."

"All right," he said.

"All right? You'll get help and let us help you with your house?" she asked.

"All right," he repeated. "I'll allow it."

This time, she kissed him, opening her mouth as her fingers ran through his hair.

_Maybe we do have time for passion,_ he thought, and picked her up so she straddled his lap. She giggled into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he looped his hands under her tool belt to pull her hips flush against his.

"Your hammer is digging into me," she said breathlessly between kisses.

"Mmm," he moaned. "That's got to be the hottest thing I've ever heard."

She laughed and leaned back, unbuckling his tool belt and hers. "That wasn't a euphemism."

He helped her remove the belts. "It's still hot."

Her hands were in the process of taking off his shirt when the doorbell rang.

"I'm gonna remove that doorbell," he said, mumbling into her shoulder.

"I''m gonna help you." Her hands stilled against his back, under his shirt.

It rang again.

"Maybe if you didn't want visitors, you shouldn't have texted a bunch of people saying, 'Come quick, free food'," she teased, lifting herself from his lap.

He sighed. "Okay. But as soon as this food is gone, the doorbell is getting cut and I'm having my way with you."

She nodded and straightened her shirt. "I believe you."

Peeta adjusted his jeans and opened the door to see the two biggest cock-blockers he had ever met talking to each other.

"Hey Gale, hey Finn. What's up?" he asked, trying to act nonchalant.

"Well, I heard there was free food around. I certainly wouldn't want my client to be unduly burdened with anything, so I'm here to take some off your hands," Gale said with a smile.

"I'm here for food, too. But mostly because you haven't texted me back," Finnick said, looking past Peeta. "Well, hello there Katniss! You're looking lovely as ever."

She narrowed her eyes at both of them. "Thanks. I'll be sure to let my girlfriend know."

Gale laughed, and slapped Finnick on the back. "You're getting off _so_ easy with her, man."

Katniss led Gale into the kitchen to pick things from the cooler, and Finnick walked up to Peeta, his voice low. "Why are your tool belts off, Peeta? Were the two of you about to do a special project?" He batted his eyes.

"No thanks to you," Peeta replied.

"Are you gonna tell me who won the bet or not?"

"Depends on what you say to what I'm about to ask you." Peeta showed Finnick the list from Johanna and explained the situation. "If you guys can spare any time, even just an hour on the weekends, it would be a huge help. Otherwise, I might have to crash at your place and cockblock you right back."

Finnick puffed out his chest. "There's no cockblocking me, man. You could walk into our bedroom with a bomb, and we're still not stopping for anything."

Peeta raised an eyebrow. "Care to put that to a test?"

"Not really," Finnick said, and clapped his hand on Peeta's back. "Besides, of course we'll help."

"Thanks, man."

"So, are you gonna tell me or what?" Finnick asked.

Peeta shook his head. "I said I'd text the winner. And oh, look at that." He held up his phone. "It needs to charge."

He was incredibly productive that afternoon. By the time the sun was beginning to set, he had rounded up volunteer services from Finnick, Annie, Haymitch, Katniss, Gale, and Madge (who he called personally to thank, and laughed when she squealed into the phone). He had also hired an electrician to come out and fix the wiring, as well as a subcontractor to spray foam installation in and help him remove and replace the drywall. He also distributed all of the food to some very happy friends, and made Katniss come. Three times.

She had left a while ago to get cleaned up, and he got in his truck to pick her up at her own home. He sat in the driver's seat and felt his phone dig into his back pocket.

_Oh, right. _

There was one thing he had left to do.

_(6:14 p.m.): Peeta: Congratulations, Annie. _

* * *

_I used to make "More Info" posts on tumblr when I was writing "Range of Motion", and I think I'll start doing those for this story, too. I'm fnurfnur on tumblr._


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